Warriors: The First Prophecy
by Shnitzenhimer
Summary: Bodies littered the clearing. Blood drenched the ground and the walls. Torn fur blew around the Base Camp. They couldn't stay here. No one could. The Prophecy was beggining to unfold.
1. The Prophecy

_Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books_

_Chapter 1: TheProphecy  
_

_A lone kit stumbled across a snow covered clearing, towards a fallen tree with a large leaf-covered crack in one side. Pushing his way through the entrance he felt the warmth of the den envelop him, driving out leaf-bare's persistent cold. _

_An old, pale orange she-cat looked up from the mouse she had been eating "Redkit, what are you doing here? Isn't it a little cold for a kit to be out?" Redkit shrugged, "Mom was asleep and I was bored. I thought maybe you could tell me a story?" _

_Seeing her hesitation he added, "I haven't been out in _days _Sandstorm. I need to _do _something!" The old she-cat purred. "Fine. What would you like to hear?" _

_Redkit padded happily up to her and curled into a ball at her side. "Anything," he yawned. "Maybe something I haven't heard in a while." Sandstorm looked thoughtful. "How about something you haven't heard at all? About how the four clans were formed" _

_Redkit purred. "That would be even better." Finishing her mouse Sandstorm carefully licked her lips."I'm not much of a story teller, but I'll do my best. Here it goes."_

Flying branches barely missed the head of a young she-cat as the storm raged on. Ears pinned to her head, moving low to the ground, she struggled forward, trying her best to protect the four kits stumbling along in front of her. She had to get them to safety, away from the hard life of the streets… and the menacing shadow that threatened to kill them. As a loner she would never be able to protect them, but they might stand a chance in with the forest cats.

She staggered forward, tripped, and rose to see an old black she-cat picking a kit up in sure, strong jaws. Without a word the mother watched as three other wise looking cats picked up the rest of the kits and, forming a circle around her, started forward. She didn't know if these cats meant harm, but she was to tired to argue.

The mother cat soon found herself being escorted into a small, long abandoned badger set. The wind quieted immediately as the ground enveloped them. Used to dark spaces the she-cat's sight recovered quickly. Along wit her sight though, came the hardships of the past three moons. The long, cold nights without food and water had taken their toll. All her bones were clearly visible through her thin tabby pelt. Her throat ached from what she new was the coughing sickness.

"We will shelter here for the night," the voice of the first cat to pick up a kit echoed eerily through the air. "You will feel better in the morning, and will be escorted to one of our camps, with your kits." The she-cat shook her head almost desperately. "I will not live to see another sunrise. This I know. But I ask you, please, take care of my kits. You are the forest cats, are you not? Peaceful and civilized, but strong. They will be safe here."

The other cats exchanged glances. "We were once peaceful but, although we are still strong, we use our strength to fight over territory." The she-cat groaned, and sank to the ground. "Please. Watch over my kits anyway. The prophecy says they will bring about the destruction of one life, but be the beginning of a new one. Screave would never let them live. He is positive the prophecy is talking about my kits."

There was a long pause, then, just as the she-cat was loosing hope, "I will take one kit to the Clan of the Hunting Cat. There it will be raised to the code of Tooth and Claw. But first, tell me of the prophecy. How was it given?" The she-cat hesitated. Finally she murmured,

"Son of Thunder

Lord of Shadow

Wind of Ages,

River's Daughter

All shall witness brutal slaughter

The doom of the Old Clan, the birth of a New

The Fate of all is two and two.

Answering to the Clan of Star,

Who they were and who they are.

They shall flee from friend and foe

Chased o'er mountain of rock and snow.

Through the lands where harsh winds rage,

Across the realm of timeless age.

Beware you, Lord of Death, King of Hate

For with these four is tied your Fate

'Tis your demise that they are born

Saviors after years of scorn.

River's eternal, flawless grace

Wind's unrelenting, breakneck pace

Shadow's strength, and Thunder's cry,

Shall bring the Time of Changes nigh."

She paused, as if this was hard, then went on. "It was given to one of our cats in a dream. He claimed the Stars came down from the sky and told him. Nothing like this has ever happened before, not in the history of cat-kind!" The black cat nodded. "A prophecy," she murmured, then shook her head as if clearing away unnecessary thoughts. "They are still kits and must be taken care of. They will die if they go another night like this"

Another cat nodded. "I will take one kit to the Clan of the Running Cat." The last two hesitated, then nodded. "A kit will be taking to the Clan of the Fighting Cat and the Clan of the Swimming Cat. The she-cat's entire body sagged with relief as the black she-cat went on, this time speaking to the others. "We can tell no others about the origins of these kits. Or about the prophecy. We will say that we each found one kit near the Sacred Grounds. As Medicine Cats of our Clans, we will be trusted. Since the ritual of the Gathering of the Clans has been ignored for so many seasons we need not worry about that." The others nodded, but then one spoke up. "They should know, though, at least someday, how they came to be here."

The first cat spoke, "Someday, yes. But not now. You will know when it its time." All four cats turned to look at the she-cat… only to find her dead, with, for the first time in moons, a look of peace on her face.

* * *

The sun shone down on the gray back of a solid, strong looking tom. He made no noise as he crept through the foliage, all senses riveted on the mouse just a few paces in front of him. The poor animal didn't notice his presence until it was to late. A rustle of leaves, a flash of claws and it was over. 

The tom proudly buried his prey under some branches to fetch later. He was strong for his young age, and handsome, with a thick neck and fur, broad shoulders, and powerful hind legs. The only odd thing about him were the small lightening shaped marks on the inside of his legs.

"Thunderfoot!" The tom turned, then smiled. It was Bristle, the Medicine Cat of the Clan of the Hunting Cat, and his foster mom. His real mother had died at birth, along with her three other kits. "There you are! You know you shouldn't be this close to the border alone! The tensions are high enough between the Clans. No need to add to that with hunting on the Running Clan's territory. Plus, you should be heading back, you'll be getting your first apprentice at sunset."

Thunderfoot purred, rubbing his face against his foster mother's. "Sunset isn't for a while Bristle," he meowed, eyes twinkling.

"Not for a while! You'll barely make it back as it is, with all that ground to cover!" The tom looked at the sun and swore. "Your right, curse it!" He grabbed his mouse and started back to Base Camp at a sprint. Bristle lumbered behind him, putting on a burst of speed to catch up. "Just because you're a sprightly green warrior doesn't mean we all are. Wait up!" Thunderfoot slowed, rolling his eyes. He could remember when this same cat used to knock his lights out in training. She probably still could, but nothing could stop time and her endurance wasn't what it used to be.

"Thank you," she puffed sarcastically.

As they whizzed past one of the Sentry Posts Thunderfoot let out a yowl of greeting, doing the same as they passed one of the Barracks, where the Frontline Soldiers lived. He ran hard through the forest, Bristle panting at his heels, skidding suddenly to a halt on the edge of a cliff.

Turning he padded down a well worn, but well disguised, path along the edge of the outcropping that meandered down the to bottom. Once there, he hurried forward through a small opening in the thick wall of brambles and bushes, intertwined and sealed with mud to create a practically impenetrable mass surrounding the camp. He pushed through the rather long tunnel, emerging at the other end into a huge clearing as well worn as the path had been.

A small stream, headed by a minute waterfall, ran through the middle, shaded not only by the several larger trees that dotted the outside of the camp, but also the large rock on the far bank that the General slept under. As usual, two Guards were sitting outside the entrance their front paws a stride away from the running water. Just in front of the General's den, on the other side of the stream, was a hallowed out tree stump with a small opening in the ground were the deputy slept. Beside that was the Garrison, were the Soldiers slept, made of a large willow tree. Branches and mud had been put to use here too, as they were where ever possible, to insulate it. Diagonal to that was a large thick bush, were the hunters slept. Across the stream and to the left of the Generals den was the Guards Quarters, a large rock that was hollow and padded underneath.

The elders slept in a hollowed out log behind the General's den, right against the wall. That side of the stream was soft and padded with grass. On the other side of the General's den was the large thistle dome with a small entrance that was the nursery. A few paw-steps in front of it was where Thunderfoot and Battle, his female counterpart, slept. A small, dense bush served as their den. In the far corner was a small tunnel, possibly stronger than the camps walls but still let sunlight through, that led to the Medicine Cat's clearing. The trainees slept in a small, moss padded hollow behind the waterfall.

Thunderfoot padded up to the prey pile beside the General's den. "Thunderfoot," a voice growled behind him. Whipping around he found himself face to face, or rather face to chin, with none other General Splitfang himself. The large tabby backed up, a rare smile threatening to appear at the corner of his mouth, and studied his male Elite. "Your getting your first apprentice today, which I believe you know. Impressive. Already an Elite and just on your original apprentice." Thunderfoot nodded, starting to get his confidence back.

"I never really got to congratulate you on your new position. Then again, you've only had it for a little less than a moon."

Thunderfoot nodded again. "I have no idea what I was thinking, challenging Claw like that. I didn't even realize what I was doing until he nearly tore my leg off. I still don't know how I won." Splitfang let the smile escape, along with a little purr. "It's better to have tried and failed than not to have tried at all. You've earned your station." With a nod, he left, leaping to the top of the large rock and letting out a deafening battle yowl.

Warmed by his leaders praise, Thunderfoot prepared to receive his apprentice.

* * *

Pain shot through Riverstripe's leg as the lithe Elite tore viciously at her fur. Spinning, she swiped at Nacuda's head and found her target as her sharp claws drove into the side of her face. The small dappled she-cat yowled in pain and released Riverstripe from her hold. Using the pause the silver tabby lunged forward and, pinning her opposition to the ground, sank her teeth into her shoulder. Only when Nacuda raised a dappled paw, claws sheathed, in surrender, did she rise and step back. 

The other she cat rose carefully, studied her silver striped, gasping, opponent carefully, and, after licking one paw delicately as if nothing had happened and drawing it over her ear, meowed, "Congratulations. I will rest easy with the knowledge that my successor is a worthy one." Riverstripe blinked in surprise, then said swiftly, "You earned your station well, when you held it. I didn't know such a small cat could be so powerful. I may have beaten you, but your definatly in better shape than me. I've never been this out of breath! I hope I am as good as you one day."

Realizing she was chattering she shut up. Nacuda purred slightly, still appraising her successor. "You will not be as good as me." Riverstripe blinked. "You'll be better. I can see it. Even so, your young and have a lot to learn. With that she walked away.

Riverstripe stared after her in admiration. Nacuda had been her hero as long as she could remember. She had felt bad about having to beat her, but rumor was the old she-cat, although supposedly 'unbeatable', had been thinking of resigning. Riverstripe had a feeling that the fight had been more of a test, to see if she was worthy. If the dappled she-cat had thought otherwise, Riverstripe would probably have ended up in the Medicine Cat's den for a long time.

The silver tabby followed her paws and soon found herself at the edge of one of the small streams that separated from the one that circled Base Camp. She always took peace in the sound of the river.

Studying her reflection she sighed. The Medicine Cat, Fernpelt, was her foster mother, so she had never met her real one. Supposedly she had died giving birth. Still, Riverstripe, although she knew that her name came from her black, wavy, horizontal stripes, different from the usual vertical, she had no idea were the stripes themselves had come from.She shrugged and dipped her head to take a drink, enjoying the privacy she knew would be rare in months to come as the new female Elite of the Clan of the Swimming Cat, before heading back to camp.

She trotted across the log that connected the camp to the shore, then squeezed through the smooth mud tunnel. Emerging on the other side the familiar sight of home reassured her as it always did. Everything was connected with sand paths, as the rest was filled with carefully controlled water. There were special 'doors' that were always opened to a individual height that let water out and in. During floods all the out 'doors' were opened as wide as possible, keeping the Clan safe. During droughts the doors for letting the water out were kept shut as much as possible.

The Clan didn't have to worry about kits, since the youngest couldn't move to escape and the ones that could move knew how to swim better than could walk. Almost all dens were made of branches and leaves, and insulated with mud. Placed on relatively high, if not always steep, islands they were safe, dry, and warm. Shallower but larger islands were scattered all around, for eating, resting, and , near the end of green-leaf and the beginning of leaf-bare, fighting. Fighting for stations, challenges, or just to show off in hopes of being promoted.

The only den that was not an island was the Medicine cats den. At the very end of the massive clearing was a large, steep rock. Small stepping stones led to the top. The General slept under it and spoke to the cats in Base Camp from the top of it. If one followed the small tunnel in the wall that covered the rest of it further into the bushes, they would find the small tunnel emerging on the other side of the rock with small stepping stones leading down. At the bottom would be the Medicine Cat's clearing, the elders den, and the nursery.

Riverstripe followed the sandy path toward the General's den. As she approached the two guards stationed on either side of the entrance Nacuda slipped out. Upon seeing Riverstripe she nodded and jerked her head back. "He's wants to see you." Riverstripe gave her chest fur a quick lick before taking a deep breath and sliding into the den.Used to the bright light of the outside it took Riverstripe a second to adjust.

When she did she almost gasped.

Not only was General Fire-eyes there, but his deputy Red, and the male Elite, Wren. She had no business among such legends! She had been an Elite for a grand total of ten minutes! "We hear you have beaten Nacuda and taken her place as the female Elite. She has resigned from all fighting stations, to become an elder."

Riverstripe suppressed a shudder. _Stop it!_ she scolded. _You're going to have to get used to them anyway! _She raised her head proudly. "I wouldn't say 'beaten' sir. More along the lines 'tested by'. I don't think she wanted to win, just see if I was strong enough to handle it."

Wren purred. "I think she has a point sir. I doubt anyone could defeat Nacuda on her own terms!" He studied her. "But anyone who could put up such a fight is worth standing with."

Warmed, and surprised, by his praise she could only shrug.

Fire-eyes continued. "Congratulations. I will make the announcement at dawn. If anyone has a problem they will be allowed to challenge you then, so be prepared!"

Riverstripe nodded.

_Read and review... please...Will get better, don't worry._


	2. Angry Yellow Eyes

Chapter 2: Angry Yellow Eyes_  
_

_A/N-I apologize for any grammatical errors, sentence/word problems, or anything else in the last chapter (and this one, but that's not the point). After I posted it I read it and found about a million problems. Sorry… Oh yea, the characters will become more in depth, I'm just introducing them._

_Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books_

"Windheart! The General needs to see you!" Windheart sighed and turned to a Hunter resting in the warm sun. "Will you take this trainee out. She's a little behind on her hunting." The Hunter rose, nodded ( "Yes Windheart") and left, the trainee at his heels.

Windheart blinked in surprise. She was still getting used to her new authority as the female Elite of the Clan of the Running Cat. Since she had been brought up by a foster mother, the Clans Medicine Cat Whitefoot, she hadn't necessarily been looked down upon, but she hadn't been shown the greatest courtesy. Now the Clan acted like it was a natural thing.

She sighed again, shrugged, and trotted toward the Generals den, the short fat bush, bare on the bottom but with a perfectly round, hollow, dome on the top. A tree stump provided a step to the small hole in the side.

Windheart paused before the stump, giving her chest a quick lick, then leapt up. Squeezing through the entrance she was enveloped in darkness. Her eyes cleared to the sight of her General, Mora. A few dots of sunlight, those that had managed to get through the tight weaving of branches, danced and bounced on her rippling tabby pelt.

Windheart blinked enviously at her leader. She was young and beautiful, but everyone respected her. Windheart's own brown tabby pelt was pale except were it was white on her chest and paws. The long fur stretched over her lithe body. She could be described as pretty, but never beautiful.

"Windheart, three Hunters came in two days ago, said they'd scented two cats from the Clan of the Hunting Cat and the smell of fresh kill. It hasn't rained since then so the scents will probably still be there. I want you to check it out for me. Your friend, Tres, was one of the Hunters out that night. Take her with you and see what Splitfang's been up to."

Windheart dipped her head, looking forward to a few days with only her best friend on the open moorlands of her Clans territory. "Yes General Mora ma'am."

Mora nodded. "I don't expect you back until this time tomorrow at the soonest. That border is at least a quarter days fast march away. Take all the time you need." She paused then added with a slight smile, "I expect you are looking forward to a little privacy. I originally offered the job to my male Elite, you know, Konan. But he said you would enjoy it more." Windheart purred. "I certainly am ma'am. I am grateful that Konan was willing to give up this assignment." Mora chuckled. "I'll be sure he knows. That is all. Dismissed."

Windheart bobbed her head, wiggled through the entrance, past the guards and a waiting warrior who hurried in just after her, leapt off the stump and looked around for Tres. Spotting her sprawled out on the flat rock that served as a 'deck' to the cave the Hunters slept in she padded over.

"Tres, the General says we have to check out those strange scents you found a few days ago. We can take as much time as we want!" Tres got to her paws happily. "Two days of absolute freedom, without Captain Padfoot breathing down my neck telling be to get moving! Hurry up!" she added as she ran toward the entrance.

Laughing, Windheart followed. The two friends sprinted happily across the moorlands, into the setting sun.

* * *

"Where are we going Thunderfoot?"

Thunderfoot turned to look at his apprentice, Mouse. The young brownish-black she-cat was small, but extremely fierce… and very energetic as Thunderfoot had found when she had woken him before dawn, ready to head out and start her training.

"We're going to see my foster uncle, Bristle's brother. He's a captain of the Frontline soldiers along the Swimming Clan's border, right next to the Two-tailed River." Mouse stared at him with wide eyes. "Is he a good fighter Thunderfoot? My mother said that Frontline soldiers have to be very brave." Thunderfoot nodded. "Byron is very brave and an amazing fighter. He's been offered a promotion several times, but turned it down saying he likes the life of a Frontline." Mouse giggled. "That's silly."

* * *

Riverstripe padded along the riverbank, looking for the perfect place to dive in. She was gathering a plant found only under water for Fernpelt's store. She waded knee deep into the brook and stopped, looking up and down the river. This will be perfect. I can dive in, look for the plant, and resurface in time to catch myself on that rock. But that will mean trespassing on the Hunting Clans territory. She hesitated, then shrugged to herself. What were the odds that a patrol was going to come by right at that point?

* * *

"Thunderfoot! It's been so long! Is this your new apprentice?" Byron's white, scar tattered, pelt shone in the sun. Thunderfoot purred. "Yes uncle. This is Mouse." Byron studied the apprentice until she started to fidget uncomfortably. "She is small," he said at last, "but she has a lot of spirit. If she was chosen to be trained by an Elite she must be pretty powerful."

Mouse purred and Thunderfoot chuckled at her pride. "The place hasn't changed much has it?" he asked looking around.

The camp was situated under a earthy overhang, were the river had once run. Now it was kept shallow by the dutiful forest cats. The Frontline soldiers slept under a small forsythia bush in the corner of well worn clearing. The small space was bordered by thick thorn bushes. The only way to get in was through the entrance at the front. Prey lay in a small hole beside the rock in the center of the clearing and makeshift 'toys' were scattered all around.

Byron blinked. "Why would we want it to change?" Thunderfoot rolled his eyes. "Never mind." His uncle stared at him a moment longer, then shrugged. "Where about to head out on a patrol. Care to join?"

* * *

Riverstripe positioned herself on the edge of the river, ready to jump. Her muscles tensed, and she prepared herself for take-off, when there was a sudden loud rustle in the bushes. Riverstripe yowled in surprise and promptly fell off the rock. She resurfaced, spluttering, to a grinning patrol of Hunters, her best friend, the brown tabby Brook, at their head. "Well, well, well, looks like our Elite isn't so amazing after all," she teased.

Riverstripe snorted water out of her nose, trying her best to ignore the grinning cats, and grumbled, "I, unlike you, was about to do something useful for the Clan. If this is how Hunters spend their time, I may have to report you." She bumped playfully against her friends shoulder. "I'm going to try again. Watch my back, as it will take me onto the Hunting Clans territory."

* * *

Byron, Thunderfoot, Mouse, and a large black tom called Night, were trotting through the undergrowth when a terrified, surprised yowl range through the air behind them. All the cats stopped and stared over their shoulder, ears pricked. "If I'm not mistaken, and I've been working on this job for years, that was a Swimming Cat's yowl. We should head back and check it out." As the cats started toward the source of the noise the only thought in Thunderfoot's mind was to drive out these arrogant invaders.

* * *

Riverstripe launched herself into the river, and as the cold, fast water enveloped her, sinking into her fur and weighing her down, she let herself sink to the bottom, looking around. Only when she saw the plant she was looking for did she push back up. She broke the surface, paddling against the river to stay in one place, took a deep breath, and disappeared underwater again.

The current tried desperately to pull her back, but she stayed calm, having done this many times before. Paddling strongly forward she grasped a chunk of the plant in her teeth and pulled hard, using the undertow to help her rip the weed away from its bed. Once she had a large chunk in her mouth, and she felt herself running out of breath, she simply stopped fighting and let the current take her.

Turning, she aimed herself for the rock and stuck her legs out in front of her, preparing for impact.Her paws slammed against stone and she scrambled to the top, dropping her burden and gasping for breath. _Never gets any easier_ she though wirily.

Just then she heard a warning yowl behind her and looked up… into the enraged eyes of a large gray Hunting Clan tom.

_Read and review. It _will _get interesting, I'm just introducing the characters. _


	3. Blood

_Dislclaimer: I own only what was not in the books  
_

Chapter 3:

Shadowpelt sat at the edge of camp, Sheba beside him. He was staring at the male Elite, Terrian, as if at a horrific monster, shocked at what he was about to do. Sheba murmured one last bit of encouragement, "Fight to your strengths," into his ear before nudging him forward.

Numbly, he trudged to the center of the clearing. _Odd _he thought _I never thought being a hero would make me feel like I was walking to my execution._ All his instincts told him to turn back, but to late. "Shadowpelt, what do you want?" the huge tabby snarled impatiently. _Just ask him a simple question_ his mind screamed. His treacherous mouth promptly ignored it. "Terrian, I challenge you to a battle for the position of male Elite for the Clan of the Fighting Cat. I earlier saw you torturing, and in the end probably killing, a trainee. I think you have abused your station and have no right to hold it."

This was a lot of words for the usually reserved soldier. The Clan, despite it's massive size, had gone quiet. All the cats stared at their Elite. They had trusted him and he very well may have betrayed them.

Terrian rose slowly. "I accept your challenge to the station and oppose any and all accusations against my integrity and honor."

The two cats turned to look at the huge moss covered stump that served as the Generals den and a place to make announcements. A lithe silvery white she-cat emerged. Both cats dipped their heads respectfully. "General Moonflower," Shadowpelt murmured. She nodded to him then leapt to the rock. Any fight below the rank of Elite was considered unimportant and could be carried out anywhere. Any higher rank had to be viewed by witnesses.

"Elite Terrian, Frontline Shadowpelt has challenged you to a position for your honor. To you accept?"

Terrian nodded. "I do."

She turned to Shadowpelt. "Do you, Shadowpelt, still uphold your challenge?" Barely keeping his voice from shaking he answered, "I do."

Moonflower nodded. "Then fight fairly, by the Laws of Tooth and Claw. May the spirits of the Great Cats guide you. Begin"

Immediately the two toms leapt at each other, meeting in midair. Snarling, Shadowpelt moved to sink his teeth into the Elite, but found only a mouthful of scruff as Terrian shifted. The two cats fell to the ground, still wrapped in a bear hug.

Terrian was obviously bigger, and would win this way, Shadowpelt realized as his opponent's claws ripped painfully into his stomach. Sheba's words rang suddenly in his ear. His old mentor had once called him fast and furious. He fought harder and better when he could move.

He had to get away from Terrian's death grip. He made as if to give up, lying limp beneath his adversary. Thinking he had won, Terrian relaxed ever so slightly. That was enough. Shadowpelt kicked up with his paws, sending the huge cat flying to land with a hollow _whump_! at the base of the General's den. Shadowpelt lunged forward, claws unsheathed, and sliced the Elites face, ripping him from right ear to left shoulder.

Blood gushed to the surface and out of the wound as Shadowpelt darted around Terrian's outstretched claws and sank his teeth into the Elite's muscled foreleg. The tom struggled under him for a while, but Shadowpelt knew he had to give up soon from blood loss.

Sure enough, the tabby held up a paw of surrender within minutes. Shadowpelt had stepped slowly off him, shaking, when Terrian's inflictions kicked in. He just contained a yowl of pain as he felt the vicious bloody swipes on his stomach and the deep bite marks in his face. He stumbled as he walked toward Sheba, who was waiting with Moren. He collapsed on the ground in front of them and distantly saw Moren's apprentice scurry off to look after Terrian. He heard Sheba's voice from a long way off. "Wow that was fast. But you won, Shadowpelt! You're the knew male Elite!"

Then everything went black.

* * *

Windheart carefully sniffed the area. As soon as she had set paw into the clearing, one of the small parts of her Clans territory that was wooded, she had smelled the Clan of the Hunting Cat. Two cats, an older she-cat, smelling faintly of herbs so she must be the Medicine Cat, and young tom. The prey had shed blood on grass and, after careful investigations, Windheart found it smelled like a Hunting Cat's mouse. 

She thought.

They had trespassed, but only a little, and only after a mouse that was theirs and would have wandered back to its home to be killed another day anyway. Tres padded up to her. "Anything?" Windheart nodded. "They only trespassed to follow a mouse from their own territory. Its no big deal, but I don't want them getting any ideas. We'll report to Mora when we return."

Tres nodded. "Sure thing. Let's take our time getting back though." Windheart purred. The two she-cats turned and started back to camp. After a while of traveling Windheart glanced at the setting sun. "We'll stay at the Sentry post tonight and the Frontline's camp the night after, if we take our time. If we want to sleep in a nest the third night we'll move fast. If not, we can keep our own pace."

Tres nodded. "That's what we did on the way up and it worked out fine. Oh, here's the Sentry post"

The two friends topped a rise and the small post that housed six or so sentries came into view. Most sentries worked alone, or in pairs, but this particular post had picked up quite a few strays in the past couple of years. Tres yowled a greeting and pricked her ears for an answer.

Nothing.

Windheart yowled this time.

Still nothing.

Tres nudged her suddenly, looking sick. "Smell," she whispered. Windheart blinked at her friend but did as she was told. The moment she drew the air through her scent glands she flinched inwardly. Blood.

* * *

Riverstripe stared into the furious yellow eyes, unable to move. "What are you doing on the Clan of the Hunting Cat's territory. Make it quick or you'll be crow-food." Behind him the other cats, an older white tom, a small but fierce looking brown-black she-cat apprentice, and a large black tom, moved forward, snarling. Their focus was not on her but on something behind her. That's when she realized Brook and the Hunting patrol had moved up after her. 

"Well?" the gray tom snarled impatiently. _Get a hold of yourself!_ Riverstipe thought desperately. _You're an Elite! _She rose, lifting her head proudly. "I was fetching river-weed for my Medicine Cat. We did you no harm and expect you to do us none."

The tom didn't relax, but a little suspicion disappeared from his eyes. "Why would fetching river-weed bring you onto our territory?" Riverstripe knew this was a question, not an accusation. "I needed a place to land, and this rock was perfect." Behind him the young she-cat growled, "That's no excuse!" She looked at the gray tom. "Who knows how long they've been here. We should drive them out!"

The black tom growled in agreement and, before anyone could stop him, launched himself straight at one of the Hunters. Within seconds the poor young tabby had disappeared across the river, injured severely. The other Hunting Clan cats had thrown themselves into battle. Without knowing it, Riverstripe found herself facing off the black tom, who seemed fueled with a godly rage.

* * *

Thunderfoot watched as his opponent vanished across the river. He turned toward the battle, and saw Mouse gamely taking blows from an apprentice almost ready to become a Soldier or Hunter and Byron easily fending off swipes from a much younger and faster brown tabby she-cat. Night had pinned the oddly stripe silver tabby to the ground. Thunderfoot should have felt proud of the young black tom, but he found himself angered. An image suddenly popped into his mind, something he'd never thought about before. 

_Four kits snuggled up to a young tabby she-cat's warm fur. Bellies full the shadowy black tom, silver tabby she-cat, stone gray tom, and pale brown tabby she-cat dozed off. Suddenly, a voice came from outside the den. "Nena! May I come in?" Before an answer came an old black and white queen hurried into the den. "Screave! He's coming! He says that these are the cats of the prophecy! He wont listen to reason! You have to run!"_

_

* * *

_

Riverstripe struggled beneath the black tom's weight. She had to get up! Suddenly there was a flash of gray and the weight was lifted off of her. Wait. _Gray? _There had been no gray cat in the patrol. She struggled to her paws, looked around, and was stunned at what she saw. The gray tom from the other patrol had saved her life! He was standing over the black tom, to shocked to move.

* * *

Thunderfoot stared at Night as the tom lay meekly under him. "Erm, Thunderfoot? Do you mind, well, moving? I can't breathe." Thunderfoot scrambled off of him and, thinking fast, said, "We do not kill our opponents over a mistaken border scuffle. I understand your dislike of that clan, your family was killed by them, but that's not an excuse to sink so low." Night nodded and the two toms watched as the silver tabby, the last cat, swam across the river.

* * *

It looked as if the Great Cats had taken a pawful of shadow and a mouthful of the night sky and put them together to create the pelt of the lithe tom trotting across the muddy ground. He stopped suddenly, mid-step, and turned to stare intently at the bushes to his right, ears forward. Moments later a small brown tabby she-cat rustled out of the bushes, a mouse clamped firmly in her jaws. 

"Sheba! There you are! You said you'd meet me here at Sunhigh!" The she-cat rolled her eyes at her friend. "I apologize for my tardiness Elite Shadowpelt, and promise you it will never happen again." Shadowpelt purred. "I may have to report you Frontline Sheba. Your pathetic punctuality could cost lives." Sheba laughed and butted her friends shoulder with her head. "Come on. There's a Sentry Post ahead, my half-sister is there." Shadowpelt nodded and followed Sheba out of the clearing.

They'd traveled a ways, talking, when Sheba murmured, "Something's in the bushes. You-" she was cut off as a lithe pale tabby she-cat stepped out of the undergrowth. She smelled of the Clan of the Running Cat. "What are you doing so deep in the Fighting Clan's territory?" Sheba's eyes were cold. Shadowpelt said nothing, but hissed.

The tabby rolled her eyes. "I come in peace. I bear a message from General Mora. For General Moonflower's ears only," she added as Sheba opened her mouth."Fine," Shadowpelt hissed. "What is your name and station?"

"I am Windheart, female Elite of the Clan of the Running Cat." Sheba narrowed her eyes and glanced at Shadowpelt. As usual he felt uncomfortable talking in front of someone he didn't know, but he had to speak at least once more. "We'll proceed to the nearest Barracks and gather a larger guard. How did you get past the Sentries and Frontlines?"

The tabby shrugged. "The Sentries escorted me, but I gave them the slip right after the Barracks. They were being idiots."

Shadowpelt narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but sighed. "Follow us."

* * *

Windheart trotted behind the large black tom, the tabby tailing her, thinking about all that had happened in the past two days. 

_Windheart and Tres padded into the Sentry post, looking around in horror. Blood spattered the walls of brambles and pooled at her paws. Fur stuck to the branches and floated around the small clearing. The smell of terror and dread had not yet disappeared on the wind. Little remained of the cats. A few bloody bones and the occasional forgotten limp and bloody body, torn to shreds. One smell overcame all others. Wolves._

_Two cats sprinted into camp in the dead of night. They hadn't stopped running since dawn. Now they hurried for the Generals den, leaping onto the log, past the Guards, and through the hole. Windheart poked Mora awake. No time for protocol now. Muttering, the she-cat's eyes flickered open. Upon seeing her Elite standing over her, spattered in blood from burying all they could find of the sentries, in the dead of night, her eyes snapped open and she pushed herself to her paws.  
"Windheart, what happened?" "Sentry post. Slaughter. Wolves!" she gasped. Mora stared, then growled, "Catch your breath and tell me what happened"  
The two she-cats spoke swiftly and told her everything. "Grab some prey and a little rest. At dawn I will send out messengers, you included. A Gathering of the Clans is in order."_

Windheart padded into camp, flanked by four Soldiers, the black tom, and the tabby. She looked around, impressed. Before she could take it all in, though, a silver-whiten she-cat broke apart from a group of warriors and trotted towards them. Upon scenting a Running Clan cat her hackles came up and she bared her teeth. "What is one of them doing here!"

Before anyone could answer Windheart spoke, stung by being called 'one of them.'

"I bear a message for your ears only, General Moonflower. From General Mora herself"

The cats eyes narrowed, but she beckoned her forward, along with the black tom and a calico she-cat. All three started toward General Moonflowers den. As they passed the group of warriors Moonflower had been talking to she brushed her tail against the back of a black and white she-cat, who joined them in.

Windheart padded after them. She tried not to show her nerves as the two hulking guards outside the Generals den snarled at her. She shook such thoughts from her head as the cool ground enveloped her.

Reaching the bottom she found a good sized hollow. "What is this message. My Elites and Deputy will be allowed to know."

Windheart shrugged, it was none of her business who knew, and started. "General Mora has called for a Gathering of the Clans."

Moonflower gaped. "We haven't had one of them in ages! What for?"

"A few days ago, two to be precise, myself and a Hunter found one of the Sentry posts slaughtered by wolves. A large pack. It won't be long until they turn on the other Clans and the Base Camps.

Now, during the Gathering all Base Camps will be less defended and more vulnerable to attack. General Mora wants it clear that a Generals decision to go is his or her own and in no way will she take the blame if something should happen. On the other paw, all Clans should be involved in any decision that should be made. They will have no say if they do not come"

General Moonflower frowned thoughtfully. "When does she plan to have this Gathering?"

Windheart blinked. Was this she-cat mouse-brained? "Next full moon of course."

Moonflower nodded. "In two days time, return here and tell me the decisions of the other Clan leaders. I will tell you my own then. And don't send anyone else. Only you."

Windheart was not looking forward to the long trip back, but what could she do? "Yes General Moonflower ma'am." Moonflower turned to her Elites. "With the soldiers who came in, escort this Elite to the border."

The black tom and calico she-cat rose and followed Windheart out of the den. She sighed as the Soldiers closed in around her. She knew she'd have to make another long boring trip back.

* * *

Thunderfoot lay in the noonday sun thinking, not for the first time, about the silver tabby and the flashback. 

He was laying on a small cliff he had discovered during some free time as a Trainee. It was extremely hard to find the ledge that led to it and only a cat was agile enough to maneuver it, unless he had wings.

"Thunderfoot!" Thunderfoot turned around. His best friend since he was a Trainee, Mace a large mottled tom, was standing on the path to the camp. "I'm going hunting, wanna come?"

Purring, a good hunt with his best friend would distract him, he got to his paws and carefully picked his way back to the main path where his friend was waiting.

"What you go there for is beyond me. To hard to get to for the same amount of sun you could get at- what's this?" he hissed suddenly. "I smell Swimming Clan!" The two toms exchanged glances, and hurried up the slope. At the top they moved in separate directions, fanning out through the trees.

Thunderfoot immediately found the Swimming Clan cat looking a little lost, but following the main scent trail. He saw a pair of glinting eyes from a tree opposite him, and at Thunderfoot's nod Mace leapt off of the branch and onto the intruder as Thunderfoot lunged forward.

The two toms easily swept the cat of his paws and pinned him down. He didn't put up a fight at all. Or look surprised. Instead the black tom looked relieved. "Finally, I found someone! I've been looking since yesterday! Though I'm pretty sure I've been going in circles since General told me your camp was only a little ways away from the border." His piercing blue eyes were filled with good humor.

Thunderfoot was so surprised he relaxed his grip on the captive. Apparently so did Mace, as the tom squeezed out from under them and carefully dusted himself off before saying, "Allow me to introduce myself. First, I come in peace, so please don't eat me. My name is Wren, male Elite of the Clan of the Swimming Cat. I have a message for General Splitfang's ears only."

Thunderfoot snapped himself out of his reverie. The tom looked trustworthy, but he knew that wasn't what he should judge by. "We'll take you to General Splitfang and your can deliver your message. He'll decide your fate after that."

Wren shrugged. "He's said to be a sensible fellow. I'll trust him."

Thunderfoot and Mace exchanged glances. This tom was very, well, odd. They rose and, Thunderfoot leading and Mace bringing up the rear, headed toward camp. By the time they had reached the General's den they had attracted many curious and menacing gazes.

General Splitfang looked the tom up and down, saying at last. "Mace. Fetch my female Elite, Deputy and Medicine Cat. They should be in camp. If you wish you can hear what he has to say. You aided Thunderfoot in his capture."

Mace nodded eagerly and hurried out of the den. For a moment Thunderfoot thought the time was going to be passed in awkward silence, but was surprised when Splitfang asked Wren how General Mora was doing. "She's doing great sir, as is the rest of the Clan."

Splitfang nodded. "Good."

Battle, Sarge, the large black and white deputy, and Bristle entered suddenly behind Mace. As soon as they sat down, Splitfang lost a little of his easiness, and asked why Wren had trespassed.

The black Elite blinked. "General Mora has requested a Gathering of the Clans."

Battle's jaw dropped, Sarge stared, and Bristle gasped audibly. Even Splitfang raised and eyebrow. "A Gathering of the Clans. We haven't had one of those since I was a young apprentice. Why would she request such a thing? And your not a Running Clan cat."

Wren's usually happy face fell slightly. "A messenger came a few days ago, to speak to us and you, but she got a nasty wound on her leg. She stayed with us, but told me what I had to know and I was sent. What I'm about to say is from her point of view."

When he spoke next it was in a clearly memorized voice.

"A few days ago, her and a Hunter found one of the Sentry posts slaughtered by a large pack of wolves. It won't be long until they turn on the other Clans. Now, during the Gathering all Base Camps will be less defended and more vulnerable to attack. General Mora wants it clear that a Generals decision to go is his or her own and in no way will she take the blame if something should happen. On the other paw, all Clans should be involved in any decision that should be made. They will have no say if they do not come."

He said this all in about two breaths and took a moment to get his wind back.

Splitfang looked thoughtful. He glanced at his advisors. Bristle spoke first. "We should go. There are more benefits than disadvantages. And what are the chances that the pack would attack that night?"

Sarge hesitated. "I don't know. It could be a trap. We should at least be careful." Battle rolled her eyes. "We should be careful, trap or no. I say we go. Bristle's right." All eyes turned toward Thunderfoot. He felt hot under his fur. Since when had he had to make decisions? _Since you became an Elite_, he thought wirily. He hesitated. Then, "I say we go." Splitfang nodded.

"Sarge has a point, we should be careful, but I don't think Mora is as dishonorable as to pretend to call a Gathering. We'll go."

* * *

Riverstripe watched as Wren trotted into camp, the smell of the Clan of the Hunting Cat heavy on his coat. Windheart rose readily. She and Riverstripe had become friendly and promised to see each other at the Gathering. She still couldn't believe that one was happening. She'd thought that that ritual had been abandoned long ago.

_Well _she thought wirily, remembering Nacuda's words, _guess_ _I don't know everything._

In case your interested:

General: Leaders

Deputy: Second in Command

Elites: strongest male and female in clan

Medicine Cat: takes care of injured cats

Training Master: Trains trainees; a soldier or guard

Trainees: step after kit, once a trainee completes his/her training, he/she will be made an apprentice with a personal mentor

Apprentice: step above trainee; given mentors depending on status: ex. Very strong, good fighter, probably mentored by Elite, fast and lithe, Hunter

Frontline Soldiers: live in small camps a little behind Sentry Posts; First line of defense for clans

Sentries: fast and lithe, live in groups of two or three usually; rotate so there is always one in camp; run to Frontline Soldier camp, alert them, then to Base camp

Guards: guard General

Hunters: hunt for clan

Soldiers: work in base camp; guard it

Elders: cats to old or crippled to work

Queens: pregnant or nursing she-cats

Ranks in order

General

Deputy Medicine Cat

Elites

Guard

Soldiers Hunters Frontline Soldiers

Sentries (a little below Soldiers and Hunters)

Queens Elders (offer advice)

Apprentices

Trainees

Note: Clans and territories are MUCH bigger

Legend says that these for Clans were formed by the four Great Cats (Leopard, Tiger, Lion, and Cheetah)

Hunters will fight as Soldiers will hunt (nobody just sits around unless they've already worked)


	4. Surrounded

_Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books._

_Something happens in this chapter! Yay for happening!_

Chapter 3: Surrounded

Thunderfoot hurried into camp. The cats that were going to the Gathering ( Many soldiers, the Medicine Cat, some Hunters and apprentices, the Generals, the Elites, and the Deputy) were due back almost half an hour ago. He had gone hunting to distract himself and settle his nerves, and lost track of the time.

"Thunderfoot! There you are! We were about to leave. Hurry up!" Thunderfoot swiftly put his prey in the pile and, cursing his stupidity, he'd almost gotten left behind, hurried to take his position at the Deputy's flank. When moving in large numbers , two scouts, Hunters usually, traveled in the lead to look for trouble. The General lead the rest, his Deputy a pawstep behind his stride on his right, his Medicine Cat two on his left. The Elites marched shoulder to shoulder behind the General and between, but a little behind, the Medicine Cat and Deputy. Hunters and Soldiers were placed in rows behind them, and all around the company were the Guards. His heart beat in his ears as he ran hard through the forest, trying his best to keep his position.

* * *

Riverstripe sprinted nervously beside Wren. The black cat, as edgy as she was, had been, rather than more subdued, even more mischievous than usual. He had almost been banned from coming. They topped a rise and saw sprawled beneath them the Clan of the Fighting Cat and the ancient Sacred Grounds.

* * *

Shadowpelt shivered as he watched the Clan of the Swimming Cat thunder onto the Grounds. He surveyed his surroundings for what had to be the fifth time. Spiral shaped rocks jutted up from the smooth stony ground, as if they'd been carved by the claws of the Great Cats. Small but bottomless looking pools were scattered around, the moonlight glinting off of their shimmering surfaces. No other animal lived in the stony valley. Not even mice, who would be perfectly adapted to its almost lifeless habitat. The only vegetation was the small clump of trees, where the official Gathering was held. No cat or Clan was allowed to go in without the others. They weren't even allowed to enter the valley unless it was a Gathering. He sighed and waited for the rest of the Clans to arrive.

* * *

Windheart couldn't believe it. She was going to a Gathering, the first one in years. Sitting at the base of the Generals den she watched as the cats that were going were rounded up. She'd been hanging around camp all day, trying to look useful so she wouldn't be late. Now, as she fell in beside her General she felt a nervous excitement well up in her belly. As the party took off along the moorlands, she dashed eagerly beside them.

* * *

_At __last_, Thunderfoot thought irritably as the Clan of the Running Cat came crashing down the slope. _For runners, they're pretty slow_.  
They had only been waiting a short time, but to Thunderfoot it felt like forever. 

As soon as the Running Clan had joined them the Clans, Generals in the lead, entered the clump of trees. Thunderfoot looked around in awe. He never thought he would see the inside.

The grass was green, soft, and springy, ringed by tress, odd considering the bare landscape outside this haven. A large rock stood at the back, a smaller one considerably lower and flatter for the Deputies at its base. Smaller rocks, barely big enough for a cat to stand on, formed the steps to the top. Another one below that for the Elites and Medicine Cats. A small cascade of pure sparkling water ran off of the large one, and down into a little waterfall (the cats on the rock would have to sit on either side of it), which surged into an equally spotless pool. A stream ran from there, down the middle of the clearing, and disappeared into the trees.

The Generals headed straight for the rock, leaping up the 'steps', and sat on either side of the waterfall. Thunderfoot followed the Deputies to the stones, proudly taking up the position of the Elites. He saw the strangely marked silver tabby he had saved at the battle, the black tom Wren, a lean pale tabby sitting beside a large brown tabby tom, a shadowy tom and a calico she-cat.

Battle sat down next to him. "This is amazing, isn't it?" she murmured. Thunderfoot nodded. "I never thought I'd live to see one of these. I can't wait!" Battle purred and turned to speak with the silver tabby. This was the only time the cats had ever gotten to see each other outside of battle, and even grudges were put aside for the chance to speak.

Thunderfoot avoided her gaze though, looking out at the crowd instead. He caught Mace's gaze and his friend gave him a nod of encouragement, eyes gleaming with pride. Thunderfoot jumped as a nose nudged his shoulder. He looked up at a large black and white she-cat Deputy who smelled of the Clan of the Fighting Cat. She was old, but she had an air of hidden power about her that Thunderfoot liked. "This your first Gathering young one?" she asked. Thunderfoot nodded and the she-cat purred. "I'm Blair by the way. Who are you? A little young to be an Elite."

Thunderfoot nodded agreement as he introduced himself. "I'm young," he added, "but I'm up to the job. I hope." Blair let out a purr of amusement at this and opened her mouth to speak, but four earsplitting battle yowls rang out across the clearing, quieting the talkative buzz that had been growing louder by the second. Blair closed her mouth, nodded to Thunderfoot, and sat back. Thunderfoot looked up but could barely see the Generals, so he looked at the crowd instead.

General Splitfang was first to speak. "You called this Gathering General Mora. What for? What can we do against wolves?" Next, Thunderfoot heard what had to be the Running Clan's General. "What makes you think I know Splitfang. That's the whole point. We need to do something."

Another voice interrupted them. "Only my Deputy knows at the moment, but the Clan of the Fighting Cat has been attacked too. The smell of wolves was everywhere. Mora is right. We must do something."

* * *

Shadowpelt tried his best to look up at his General, shocked. _His Clan_ had been attacked. And he was only telling the now! Yowls of shock, fear, and in the Fighting Clan's case, outrage rang through the clearing. Moonflower yowled and the noise stopped. "I only found out today, just as we were leaving. I apologize for not telling you sooner." Shadowpelt was only a little comforted by his Generals words. It obviously soothed the other cats though, as they quieted. 

A small grunt escaped in a fourth voice, it had to be General Fire-eyes, but he was cut off by a howl.

_Wait_, Shadowpelt thought _a howl?_ The truth hit him like a ton of stones. Wolves! Howls arose from all around them, and the scent of blood and hunger tainted the air as cats began to yowl in panic.

They were surrounded.

_Read and Review _


	5. Massacre

_Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books_

Chapter 5: Massacre

Riverstripe heard the Generals call, "Run, escape! Get out of here!", before the wolves leapt out of the trees. Huge and hairy with eyes full of hate and hunger and bloodlust they lunged forward.  
With fire.  
Burning branches were clasped in some mouths, swiped back and forth. Riverstripe froze on the spot, watching numbly as a blazing cat ran by, yowling.

"Riverstripe! Help!" She whipped around at her friends voice. Brook was pinned to the ground, a long gash up her side. Rage replaced fear. How _dare _these intruders threaten the Clans and her friends! She launched herself at the wolf, despite odds, and clamped herself to his head.

Yowling, he backed away and Brook struggled to her paws, and bolted… right into the jaws of a waiting wolf. Riverstripe released her foe as her friends blood sprayed the ground, grief for her companion knocking the wind from her lungs. She stood there, unable to move, watching the cats around her. Slaughter. "Riverstripe! There's nothing you can do! She wouldn't have wanted you to die as well! Run!" She saw Wren racing foward, eyes, despite all that was happening, worried for her. She ran to meet him and the two Elites hurried for an exit.

* * *

Thunderfoot leapt off of the rocks, running for all he was worth. Not looking where he was going he tripped over one of the many bodies, stumbled, and fell. Expecting to feel a wolves fangs sink into him at any moment he scrambled to his paws and looked around. His eyes widened. Mace. _Mace_. Those cursed wolves had killed his best friend. He looked around, no longer afraid. Only hateful. Cats were being brought down everywhere, whether by fire or fang. There was no hope for him to stay and fight. He would only die. What good would he be to anyone then? 

For a moment, though, he almost ignored this sensible part of his mind, but he forced himself to move. Without looking down or around he ran straight ahead, toward the eastern exit. And a wolf. He only just managed to gather his wits and leap over its head. Even so, he could feel its breath and hear the click of its teeth as they closed in empty air.

He scrambled up the slope, pebbles falling, and looked back only once, when he had reached the top. Cats were flooding out of the clearing. His eyes scanned the ridge, coming to rest on the strange silver tabby. She was helping an injured black tom, the messenger Wren, he recalled, hobble up the ridge. Their eyes met for a brief moment and Thunderfoot saw his own grief and horror reflected. When Wren stumbled and fell the tabby broke her gaze away and turned toward him. Thunderfoot moved away, racing up the slope and away from the screams of dying cats.

* * *

Windheart yowled in fear and pain as one of the huge hairy brutes pinned her to the ground. She saw his fangs coming down for the death bite, felt his warm, rancid breath. Snarling, she would not go down without a fight, she swiped at his muzzle. The wolf snarled and yanked his head away, sporting several deep gashes. 

Windheart wiggled out from under him and bolted for one of the many holes in the brush. She scrambled out and away, running for all she was worth toward the southern ridge. Without noticing she was also heading for one of the many small pools. With a splash she fell in. Long fur weighing her down, she was pulled along. Panic bubbled in her chest as she struggled desperately to resurface. It was no use. She was not a swimmer. The gash in her side stung dimly as water filled her lungs and everything went black.

_She opened her eyes and felt rain pouring on her back, drenching her fur and sinking down to her skin. She shivered, then jumped with a start as she realized she was the size of a kit. A shadow loomed over her and she looked around to see a small tabby she-cat stumbling along behind her. At her side was the oddly striped silver tabby, as a kit, that she'd seen at the Gathering. The big gray Elite too, and the shadowy black. All were kits. Behind her she felt the wind increase as the she-cat stumbled and fell. About to turn around she felt sudden strong jaws clamp around her neck and gently pick her up. Again, everything went black._

She couldn't breathe. She was traveling through an airless black tunnel and words were echoing all around her. _"Cats of the prophecy.." "Screave will never let them live…" "One kit will be taken back to each Clan…" _Windheart thought she was going to explode from lack of oxygen. Just as suddenly as she had fallen, air, good life bestowing air, filled her lungs once more. Her eyes snapped open.

* * *

Shadowpelt ran forward, Sheba at his side. Pandemonium and chaos reigned. Cats yowled, in fear, pain, grief. A wolf leapt in front of them. Shadowpelt wasn't surprised. "Sheba, run!" he cried. The she-cat shook her head and stood firm. "If we die, we die together."_ Brave despite her shaking limbs,_ Shadowpelt thought dryly. 

He glared at her. "That is an order Soldier. Leave." Sheba stared at him. She knew he met well, but she obviously didn't want to leave. Only years of following orders moved her paws away. Shadowpelt turned to look at the oncoming wolf and almost lost his face for it, as the beast had approached swiftly. He barely managed to hurl himself it the side. The wolf turned for another charge.

This time Shadowpelt was ready. As the wolf ran at him, he stepped aside again, swiping at the monsters eyes. The animal let out a yelp of pain, then turned around for another charge, good eye gleaming, blind eye dripping blood. _Stupid_, Shadowpelt thought coolly. This time he slid under the dog, biting at the back of his leg and breaking the tendon. The wolf went down and Shadowpelt bolted for the exit.

He was running for the north cliff, shocked at what he had done, when he heard a splash. Thinking he was being trailed, he chanced a glance over his shoulder and groaned. Some idiot cat had fallen into a pool. He hesitated. He had to protect and help his clan, but if he died for a cat of a different Clan… Shaking his head he hurried forward.

The long fur of the she-cat was weighing her down fast. He glanced around for wolves, then ducked his head into the water. Almost rump deep he barely managed to stay balanced on the edge. His teeth sank into the cats scruff, sure and strong, and pulled her up. Her weight almost pulled him in too, but he managed. At last he dumped her body on the ground and stared.

It was the Clan of the Running Cat female Elite. He had almost died for _her_? He hesitated. He couldn't just leave her. He sighed as she began to cough up water and her eyes flickered open.

* * *

Thunderfoot sprinted down the slope, sides heaving. He had to warn his Clan! Then a terribly familiar smell hit his scent glands and sent him tumbling back. Blood. And wolves. They had already been here.  
_ Of course!_ he thought angrily. _They would attack the camps first. They were easier than the Gathering and it meant less cats would escape!_

"Thunderfoot!" The tom turned and saw Mouse scrambling down the ridge. Her eyes were wide with fear and horror. She stopped suddenly. "They've been here already, haven't they?" she whispered. Thunderfoot nodded silently. Mouse's mother had stayed behind.

"Come. There might be some survivors." Mouse didn't seem to believe him, but followed anyway. As they squeezed through the entrance the rancid smell of blood and fear became overwhelming and Thunderfoot had to sit down, close his eyes, and breath for a moment. When he opened them he only wanted to snap them shut and wake up to find this was all a nightmare. A terrible nightmare.

A cry from his side jerked him out of his thoughts. Mouse broke away and ran to a still body. Her mother. Or half of her. Thunderfoot looked away from his weeping apprentice and started around the clearing.

As he moved from mangled body to mangled body he realized nothing could surprise him anymore. Nothing. These brutes had spared no one. Kits and elders, soldiers and queens. None had been left alive.

Thunderfoot pulled his head out of a hole in a wall after inspecting a body. A piece of fur tickled his nose making him sneeze. He blinked. Hard to believe something as simple as sneezing still existed. He looked down. Cat fur. He started away when he realized something. Whipping around he carefully sniffed the fur again. It smelled of no Clan. None. He ran to the body and flipped it over so its neck was showing. Just as he'd thought. The tom, although contorted by a wolf, had been killed by a cats bite. He ran to other bodies. Many had been killed by wolves. Just as many had been killed by cats.

What kind of sick cat would team up with their greatest enemy? Revenge? Suddenly the words from his vision returned. _"Screave! He's coming! He says that these are the cats of the prophecy! He wont listen to reason! You have to run!"_

Where had that come from? Wait. Screave. Whoever he was. Had _he _done this? Before he had time to think the bushes rustled as cats entered. He turned. Bristle came limping in, about six cats following. She stared at him with the same haunted look all the cats he had seen so far had. "They're dead," she croaked. "All the Generals are dead. Almost all the cats, too. We have to leave."

* * *

Riverstripe and Wren thundered across the marshland. They needed the get back to camp. They both had a nasty idea of what they'd find. Riverstripe couldn't believe this was happening. She wanted to bury her face in her mothers fur and cry like a kit. But she couldn't. She was an Elite and the Clan was her responsibility. The cats hurried in through the tunnel, side by side since it had been widened by wolves. They emerged in the camp, and were not surprised by what they saw. 

Blood pooled on the ground, on the walls. It spattered over everything. Fur was stuck to the brambles or drifted around the clearing. Cats mangled and, in some cases, half eaten bodies littered the ground. And the trees. And the walls. Corpses had been tossed everywhere. She looked up into the trees over head and saw bodies dangling from the branches. They had to get out of here.

* * *

Shadowpelt groaned as the weak she-cat slowed him down. His camp was close. He would take her there. He had no idea how it would offer any protection, but he was going anyway. 

She scrambled along behind him, rising slowly every time she fell. He growled impatiently. At least they were almost there. "What's your name?" the she-cat asked suddenly. Shadowpelt blinked in surprise, then grunted, "Shadowpelt." The tabby nodded. "I'm Windheart."

* * *

Windheart struggled behind the black tom. She wished he would talk. All he's said was that they were going to his camp. And his name, when she asked. She felt weak, like a kit, but the gash in her side was deep and she was losing blood every second. Just as she was about to collapse the camp came into view. She recognized it dimly from when she had played messenger. 

For the third time in only a few days she crawled through the entrance. As soon as she was free, she collapsed. Relief seeped through her momentarily. Then she saw the camp. A few cats had made it back. They were weeping over the dead, or simply sitting, staring hollow eyed into space. Bodies littered the clearing. Blood drenched the ground and the walls. Torn fur blew around the Base Camp. Windheart shivered. This was worse than murder or slaughter.

It was a massacre.

* * *

Shadowpelt stared around at his beloved home. Or what had been his home. He couldn't stay here now. None of them could. Not any cat from any Clan. It was over. They had to leave, find a new place far from here. Leave their old memories behind, the good and the bad. There was no choice.

* * *

**_First of all I know wolves are not evil bloodthirsty brutes. I actually like wolves. I just needed something big, that seemed savage. And I know that this chapter was violent (and short) but it had to be done… Anywho, read and review. PLEASE! It feels like nobody is reading by story… -sniffs- Something _will _happen in the next chapters…_**


	6. Sorrow

**_Disclaimer: If I owned warriors, why would I be here?_**

**_A/n- Thanks to all reviewers! _**

Chapter 6: Sorrow

Riverstripe took one last look around her home. Her old home. No one could live here now. Not only would they be haunted by memories, they would be in danger of a second attack. She sighed. A lot had happened in a few days.

The wolves had disappeared as suddenly as they had come. No clues to where they had gone, just as their were none to where they had come from. The Clan had stayed up late, burying their dead, seeing who was alive, missing, or deceased. Only eleven others had arrived alive, plus her and Wren made thirteen. Three queens, one with two kits almost ready to become trainees, two with unborn children. They wouldn't arrive for many moons now, as the queens had just moved into the nursery. One tom, a guard, two soldiers, and one she-cat Hunter. Much to Riverstripe's relief Fernpelt had survived as well.

The dawn after the massacre a messenger from the Clan of the Hunting Cat had told them that his clan was heading for the Sacred Grounds in two days to bury the rest of the dead. They would spend a night near there then head out in the morning. If the others wanted to come with them, the temporary leader of the Clan would happily share leadership.

She had decided to go. There was safety in numbers and the Clans had to leave anyway. The cats followed her and Wren's orders without complaint. They were not looking forward to seeing the rest of their dead, but they knew they couldn't stay here.

* * *

Thunderfoot sat beside the tabby Windheart, who had taken control over the Clan of the Running Cat, and looked at his meager party of survivors. Bristle and Mouse had obviously survived, along with eight others. One elder, two Hunters, an apprentice, two soldiers, and a Guard. He sighed. They had found the Guard wounded near the Sacred Grounds. He was still weak from two nights losing blood, but he would live. 

None of the cats had entered the Sacred Grounds yet. They had met here and Thunderfoot had started talking with Windheart. They were reluctant to see the sight of the massacre, two days gone. At last, once the sun was high they knew they had to keep moving. They started toward the Sacred Grounds.

* * *

Windheart padded beside Thunderfoot. Behind her, her clan mingled with his, brought together by grief. Only an older trainee, the training master, Whitefoot, two Guards, three Hunters and a soldier had made it out alive. She sighed. The weight of the Clan rested heavily on her shoulders.

* * *

Shadowpelt carefully padded the soil down on one of the graves. His Clan had arrived even before the Clan of the Hunting Cat. An awful sight had met their eyes. 

Bodies, bloated from the sun, were already beginning to rot. Limbs had stiffened into gruesome positions, the cats faces twisted in fear and horror forever. Despite the rancid smell of rot, the Clan had started the funeral, under Shadowpelt's instruction. Or what was left of the once mighty clan. Only Moren, two soldiers, three apprentices, a queen, Sheba, and two Hunters had survived. Along with him that made a grand total of eleven.

Upon hearing a scrabbling noise he looked toward the cliff, squinting his eyes against the sun. Two clans, the Clan of the Hunting Cat and the Clan of the Running Cat, scrambled down the cliff. They paused, gazing around in horror at the sights before a few quick words from the pale tabby she-cat and gray tom sent the cats to work.

* * *

Riverstripe looked around her, at the forms of the sleeping cats, then turned to watch the sun rise. The last to arrive, the others had helped her Clan bury their dead. Now she crouched in a small cave with the others on a cliff off the Sacred Grounds. None of them had been brave enough to spend a night at the small, inviting oasis. 

"It's hard to believe it. Everything we've ever known, gone. In one night." Riverstripe whipped around, and founder herself face to face with the gray tom, Thunderfoot. She relaxed. "I still can't believe we have to leave." The tom nodded and the two cats sat in silence for a while. Moments later, Windheart joined them. After a while even Shadowpel, drawn, like them, by the weight of their Clans, came to crouch beside them, watching the rising sun. As the sun crested the trees, Shadowpelt left and Thunderfoot rose. "We should wake the others. We'll hunt, then head out." They nodded and moved away.

* * *

Windheart sprinted across a small stretch of moorland. The last time she would ever hunt on her territory. Never again would this grass know the touch of her paws, of any paws. It would just be, until time folded in on itself and everything vanished. She took comfort, though, in the fact that the same sun and moon that had shone down upon days of happiness shone down upon her now. Tears streamed down her face to mingle with the wind. _(a/n-cats can't cry. I don't care. Now they can)_

* * *

Shadowpelt stood at the mouth of the cave, prey clutched tightly in his jaws. The others, he knew, had gone back to hunt on their land one last time. He hadn't. He knew he wouldn't have been able to handle it. All the memories. The joy and sorrow. But mostly the sorrow. He watched as the other cats began streaming back toward the cave. They would leave as soon as everyone had eaten.

* * *

Thunderfoot took the lead as the party headed out. They would move through the territory of his old Clan. Once free, they would head north toward the distant mountains. Perhaps a new home could be found on the other side, with a whole range of rock and earth to separate them from their pasts.

* * *

Riverstripe sighed in relief as they finally reached the foot of the mountains. They had been traveling for days and the peaks had seemed to get no closer. She glanced up as far as she could and gulped. The tips were lost in mist. She had never been good with heights and it looked like this journey was going to test her restraint. She shook her head. The Clans came first! She had to think of their safety before her own kit-ish fears. She hurried forward to Thunderfoot, who was speaking quietly with Windheart. "… what to do next?" To everyone's surprise Shadowpelt spoke up. He rarely said anything to anyone but his tabby friend, Sheba. "We should rest here for the night. We'll tackle those," he jerked his head up to the mountains, "tomorrow, when we've had some rest and food." Thunderfoot and Windheart nodded and Riverstripe found herself agreeing. 

Tomorrow they would tackle the mountains.

_I know. Very short. W/e. I was in a rush, but had to get something up. Again, I apologize for any spelling, grammar, punctuation etc. mistakes. Its late and I'm tired. Good night._


	7. Gone

**_Disclaimer: I am getting really tired of writing these. So this time I want you to gues. Who owns Warriors?_**

**_a/n- I know this chapter is really short. I mean REALLY short, but I updated twice yesterday, so cut me some slack -ducks rocks-... Please? _**

Chapter 7: Gone

Riverstripe sprinted back across the rocky ground, scattering pebbles as her legs flew under her. She had volunteered for scouting duty now, when the land was steep, but there were no heights. After two days of traveling in the lead, returning only to check in with the others, her limbs were weary. This was the only time she had ever returned with important news. _Not good_,she reminded herself, _but important._

As the Clans came into view she slowed, skidding to a halt at Shadowpelt's paws. Immediately Windheart, the other 'leader' not on scouting duty, hurried forward from the back of the line were she had been making sure no one fell behind. "What is it Riverstripe?"

Panting, it took Riverstripe a moment to get her breath (she was _no _runner) but then in her anxiousness to tell them what she had seen, her words slurred together.

"Whoa, Riverstripe," Shadowpelt murmured, "calm down and tell us what's bugging you."

Taking a deep breath despite the fact that she was already impatient with herself, she mewed, "A river! A huge river! We'll be there by dusk."

Shadowpelt stared. "Is there anyway to cross?" Riverstripe had, at first, shared the concern in their eyes, but now she had a plan. A risky plan, but it was the only way. "Ice. The entire river is frozen over. It's chancy, but it's the only hope we've got." Windheart hesitated. "Is it thick enough?" Riverstripe was quiet for a moment. She'd run into the same problem. "It looks thick enough, but with so many cats crossing, I don't know. As I said, its chancy." Shadowpelt exchanged glances with her and Windheart before turning to a Sentry. "Go fetch Thunderfoot."

* * *

Windheart shivered as they approached the flowing river. She _hated _water. The entire party stopped and Windheart hurried to the front despite her fears. She had to keep the Clans safe and if that meant crossing water, then so be it!

Riverstripe had already stepped warily forward with one paw onto the ice. Slowly she placed her other paw on, then her last two. She started cautiously onto the ice, but by the time she had reached the middle she was practically running with the ease of long practice. As a Swimming Cat she was used to this. Only when she was safely on the other side did Thunderfoot cross after her, taking her place on the far shore as she returned to the middle to help any cat who needed it.

Windheart and Shadowpelt stayed on the other side to keep the group organized. They, to Windheart's relief, would not have to cross until last. Shadowpelt looked no easier about doing this than she.

"Okay," Windheart yowled, "Elders first, along with Queens, and kits. Once they've all gone, then Trainees and apprentices. The rest of you will be broken into groups to cross when told."

"I will personally skin any cat who crosses without permission," Shadowpelt added and Windheart fought hard to hold back a snort of laughter.

* * *

Shadowpelt watched as the third to last group of warriors crossed. All that remained was a small group of Hunters and a group of Soldiers.

"Okay," Windheart yowled, looking as sick as Shadowpelt felt (walking on water was _not _a natural thing,) and started forward. Slowly, she leaned her weight onto the ice, and then, panic flaring in her eyes, scurried across to the far side.

Shadowpelt started over, forcing himself not to follow Windheart's example. Stopping just past the middle, he beckoned for the others to follow, not daring to open his mouth in fear of being sick. At least he was able to contain, unlike Windheart, who had disappeared into the bushes. The others padded forward. It wasn't until the first two had made it safely and the rest were on the way, that the ice started to creak. Again, the all to familiar feeling of panic welled in his chest.

Behind him, he heard Riverstripe yowled, "Quickly!" As the weight of so many cats began to weigh down on it, the ice groaned louder. Suddenly, there was an earsplitting crack and the last cat in line dropped with a yowl. Hurrying forward, he vaguely heard Thunderfoot yell, "Shadowpelt, no!" But as the cat continued to scrabble for a hold, the black tom ignored his fellow leader. He lunged forward in time to catch the cat by the paw just as he started to disappear.

Hauling him up he switch his grip to the cats neck. The tom grunted in pain, but tried to help. Despite their best efforts, Shadowpelt was beginning to see with a sinking feeling that it was hopeless. He was slowly being dragged in too. The tom seemed to have come to the same conclusion. "Let go," he rasped, "I'll die even if you do manage to get me up. Just let me go." Shadowpelt hesitated, torn. But as his paws began to slip again, he sent looked into the tom's eyes. He saw not fear, but sadness, and acceptance. With one last look of sorrow, he released the tom.

Immediately, the almost lifeless cat was swept under the ice, gone.

Gone.

**_Short, I've said it. Please don't hurt me! If your feeling really nice, you'll not only not hurt my, you'll review! -wink wink, nudge nudge- _**

**_Oh yea, thanks to all who reviewed last time! People are reading this! _**


	8. The Mountain

**_Okay, last Disclaimer for entire story. It goes for all chapters. Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books_**

Chap 6 : The Mountain

"We searched the bodies before we left, Lord. There were no cats of the markings you described." The huge wolf watched the old black cat carefully as his deputy, a white, ginger splotched, tom translated. The tom with the gift of tongues. Dogheart he was called. The one who had brought the proposition to them, knowing he was the only cat who would not be torn apart on the spot.

The black tom snarled and Dogheart turned toward the wolf and growled unsympathetically, "He says find them. Find them or he will throw you to the Beast. Take a party of wolves and cats. Don't return until they are dead." The cats eyes, unlike his masters wrathful ones, were cold and blunt. His face was smooth as stone, compared to his masters shaking limbs.

The wolf's eyes widened and he trembled with fear. "Not the Beast! Please! I will kill them! Just... just not the Beast." The deputy translated and the old tom nodded before turning to limp away into shadow.

Dogheart turned to the wolf. "See that it's done," he ordered. The wolf nodded a trembling head and hurried away.

Dogheart sneered cruelly. He almost never smiled. But this event deserved celebration. The more that the old mouse-brain of a leader thought about the cats, the more unhinged he became. Hearing that they had gotten away would smack him harder than any other blow so far. He hasn't even realized our Clan is not in danger. The Clan they were foretold to destroy was their own. The more deranged he became the easier it would be to kill him. Chuckling ruthlessly he followed Screave out of the alley.

* * *

Thunderfoot struggled against the wind. It blew back his fur and force him to crouch low, ears pinned against his head. Windheart, light-footed, ran up to him, sinking only a tiny bit into the snow. "We've been traveling for hours Thunderfoot! We need a place to rest!" She had to shout to be heard over the wind.

"I know! I volunteered for scouting so I could look for something! Tell the others we will travel only a little farther, then, if no shelter is found, we will sleep against the cliff!" Windheart nodded and disappeared back into the blizzard. Thunderfoot continued. A flicker of movement caught his eye and he whipped around. He could have sworn he'd seen the shadow of a cat framed against that cliff! The thin air must be making him light-headed. He pushed on.

Windheart returned. "The Elder from your Clan isn't going to make it much longer! We have to stop!" Thunderfoot hesitated, glancing at the path ahead of them. He felt that if he just pushed a little farther, a warm cave would come into view. He sighed. He couldn't risk the lives of the cats. "All right. We'll shelter against the cliff until the storm blows over." Windheart nodded and went to fetch the others.

* * *

Shadowpelt settled himself down, back to the cliff. He was keeping watch. Not that there was anything to watch for. Nothing else was crazy enough live on the mountain. _This was a stupid idea_, he thought. _We'll never survive the mountain!_

As if to prove this, several cats stepped suddenly out of the swirling blizzard. Shadowpelt leapt to his paws and yowled the alarm, hissing at the intruders.

They seemed to float on the snow, their huge, wide paws keeping them on top of the drifts. Thick fur, which added another inch to their already huge bodies, glistened as melted snow dripped off of the waterproof pelts. Powerful hind legs and broad chests were perfectly adapted to the harsh conditions. "We come only to help, Cats of the Low Lands." The leader spoke. He was a powerful white tom, tinged with gray.

Shadowpelt blinked as he realized all the cats pelts were grays, whites, or browns so they would blend perfectly with the mountain. Thunderfoot, the small apprentice Mouse beside him, Riverstripe, Windheart, and the healthiest Soldiers and Hunters hurried forward to stand by his side. "We need no help," Riverstripe growled. The tom looked amused. "Well then, you should know better than to let cats sleep in the cold. They will die. We came to invite you to spend the night in our camp."

Windheart narrowed her eyes. "Who are you? Why do you want to help us? We're trespassing on your territory!"

The tom shrugged. "We are the Clan Atop the Mountain. The cats of the High Lands. No cat should have to spend the night in the cold when shelter is open to them." Shadowpelt weighed his options. At least they had a chance if they went with the cats. "My cats will happily accept this invitation. We thank you." Thunderfoot hesitated, then nodded, followed by Windheart and Riverstripe.

* * *

Riverstripe followed the mountains cats, their huge forms blocking the wind, powerful chests breaking a path for the Clan cats. All but the two scouts worked to create a clear trail. Before her Thunderfoot put his broad shoulders to use and helped. The Clan cats stringed out behind them, Windheart and Shadowpelt bringing up the rear.

She shuddered as the cats lead them to the edge of a cliff, refusing to look down. She _hated _heights! Behind her the young Hunting Cat apprentice, Mouse, stumbled and fell. She sighed, pausing to help her up. She couldn't let these simple things distract her! Suddenly, the huge cat in the lead yowled over the howling wind, "We are almost there, just up this cliff path!"

Gulping, Riverstripe realized they were at the top of the mountain. Well, almost. A small path led up the side of a cliff as the wind carried the scent of many cats down to her.

* * *

Shadowpelt was the last to squeezed into the small cave behind the outcropping of rock. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he blinked. Warm and welcoming, the cave had a small stream running through it, to keep thirst quenched during blizzards. Cats of all sizes, from the size of their rescuers to apprentice sized, bustled around. Leafy branches, he had no idea where they had come from, hung off rocky ledges, covering dens. The stone floor was hard, but warm and he could see moss in the dens.

But what shocked him he most was what lit up the cave. Fire. Small piles of twigs and leaves were scattered around, kept carefully out of the reach of kits by the stalagmites on which they rested. "What…" Thunderfoot's voice trailed off as he stared around himself. Shadowpelt didn't blame him. The big cat purred. "The large cats, like us, are Storm Treaders, the smallest ones are Rock Climbers, and the medium ones are the Prey Hunters. We also have Seniors, the old ones, Novice's, the young ones, Queens in the Birthing Den, a Healer behind that fern curtain, and a Blacksmith and Forger. They and their Novices are in charge of the fires. Follow us. Our Leaders will want to see you."

_Leaders? _Shadowpelt thought, _They have more than one?_

He followed them toward a hole in the back wall, only to be stopped by a huge gray tom and an equally large orange tom. Both smelled pleasantly of smoke and their coats had permanent soot stains on them. Rather than making them unattractive though, these marks seemed to add to their character. The gray tom spoke in a booming voice, obviously used to having to speak over roaring flames. "What have we here, Frost? Low Landers from the forest?"

The white tom, who didn't seem as big now, compared to the cats beside him, answered, "Found them trying to sleep out the blizzard beside a cliff."

The orange tom spoke this time. "Even kits know not to try that. What were you doing on the mountain in a storm in the first place"

"We didn't know a blizzard was on its way. We started out from the base of the mountain eight days ago." Shadowpelt studied them carefully as Thunderfoot spoke. Were they making fun of them for accidentally starting out in a storm?

"Kits know how to tell a storm is coming, even from the bottom of the mountain too," he purred. He seemed to be laughing with them, not at them. Shadowpelt relaxed.

"Only those in charge have to go see our leaders. The rest can come get warm and have something to eat in our den." Shadowpelt groaned. The others got to eat and get warm while he and the rest of the leaders had to converse with unknown cats who would decide their fate. Windheart nodded. "Very well. Thank you." The toms dipped their heads and started off, the Clan cats at their tails. Shadowpelt heaved himself to his paws and followed Frost.

* * *

"We've heard their story and now we must judge their fates. What say you, Lords of the Mountain?" Windheart watched, muscles tense, as the oldest of the four leaders spoke to the others. The Elites had been inside the den for over a half-an-hour.

At last a brown tabby she-cat spoke. "They have suffered enough. What have they done to deserve punishment? Only tried to find a new home for their Clans. It would kill them to throw them out in the blizzard. I say let them stay."

The white she-cat spoke this time, voice gruff. "It would be a waste to needlessly kill off such warriors. I agree with Snow. Let them stay." The first tom to speak, a large gray tabby, nodded. "I too, say let them stay. But I cannot decide for Snake. What do you say? Can you change my mind?"

The last tom, a slinky black thing with suspicious eyes that were constantly darting around and a greasy pelt, growled in a whiny voice, "I say we kill them. They trespassed on our lands Crag! They had no right and they should die! Fate obviously meant for them to pass on this day. They simply cheated death! And what if they are being pursued? They could lead the wolves to us! But _my _decision doesn't count as three have agreed to let them stay. My word doesn't matter."

Crag studied him. "Your say does matter. You know that. You could change my mind. Even if you didn't, your opinion could open up things we haven't though about, alert us to hidden dangers."

Snake simply glared at them and stalked out of the den. Frost shook her head. "Excuse Snake. He is rude and can jump into things to fast without thinking, but he is extremely loyal and tries to do only what is best for the Clan. He is also the greatest military mind in memory."

Riverstripe nodded. "What will happen to us?" They all, the leaders and Elites, looked at Crag. As oldest he had the final say. "Snake's words have shown me things I overlooked. Give me an hour to decide."

**_Short, I know... sorry... I want to update my other story, but its taking a million years because my friend jumped on my hand at school and (accident) and hurt them... anywho, please read and review_**


	9. Assassin

_**Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books**_

Chapter 9: Assassin

Riverstripe almost felt herself panting as she waited for Crag to speak. She wished Wren were here. He would put a smile on her face.

At last he growled, "I have taken into opinion of the others, but my decision is final. The Clan cats will be allowed to stay." Riverstripe barely managed to keep from sagging in relief. Beside her Thunderfoot let out a grateful sigh and Windheart's shoulders slumped. Even Shadowpelt looked relieved. Crag went on. "You will be welcome here as long as we see you pose no threat. Leave now, all of you. One of your Healers is ill."

* * *

Windheart followed Frost, heart pounding. Whitefoot was sick. She was the oldest of the Medicine Cats and had taken worst to the mountain. Sliding behind the curtain of ferns with a muttered thanks to Frost, she hurried over to her foster mother. 

The old gray, white-pawed, tabby lay on her side in a bed of moss and feathers, twitching and mumbling. Her breath came in short ragged gasps and Windheart noticed with a sickening jolt that her bones stuck visibly through her dull pelt. Normally plump and sleek the old cat looked like she was on her deathbed. Windheart began washing her vigorously. She didn't know how this would help, but she had to do something. How long had Whitefoot been like this? All the cats had lost weight, but not this much!

As she swiped her tongue over the cats ears she realized that the mumbling was not unintelligible. She seemed to be chanting something. Windheart hesitated, then leaned closer.

"Son of Thunder  
Lord of Shadow  
Wind of Ages,  
River's Daughter  
All shall witness brutal slaughter

The doom of the Old Clan, the birth of a New  
The Fate of all is two and two.  
Answering to the Clan of Star,  
Who they were and who they are.

They shall flee from friend and foe,  
Chased o'er mountain of rock and snow.  
Through the lands where harsh winds rage  
And across the realm of timeless age.

Beware you, Lord of Death and King of Hate  
For with these four is tied your Fate  
'Tis your demise that they are born  
Saviors after years of scorn.

River's eternal, flawless grace  
Wind's unrelenting, breakneck pace  
Shadow's strength, and Thunder's cry,  
Shall bring the Time of Changes nigh."

As soon as she finished, the Medicine Cat would begin again. Windheart was soon lost in the chant, as it filled her ears and heart and she was swimming in a sea of long forgotten memories.

_Four kits ran ahead of a tabby she-cat, looking scared and lost. There was no sound but the pounding of their paws on hard dirt and the pant of their breathing. The she-cat glanced over her shoulder. When she turned back it looked as if she had seen a ghost. _

_Windheart, who had been running beside them, turned around and gasped. A mass of hulking, snarling cats was steadily gaining on them. She tried to urge the kits forward but she may have been stone for all it did. They didn't seem to hear her. She looked back over her shoulder, panic welling in her chest. The cats were only a fox length behind! _

_She spun around to face them. She would protect theses kits with fang and claw if necessary! They ran right through her. She couldn't be seen or heard or felt! A voice, as if all the cats she had ever known, yet only one voice, rang through her ears. She looked up as if at the sky and the stars moved and twisted in their posts. The voice seemed to come from them. "This is the past. What is done is done. You cannot change it." _

_Windheart opened her mouth to yowl an insult when a painful shriek broke out behind her. She spun. The cats had caught up with the she-cat! They had pinned her to the ground and were now frantically trying to catch her kits. One pounced on the silver tabby and raised a paw, claws unsheathed, for the kill. _

_Suddenly a black and white queen leapt out of the undergrowth that edged the side of the strangely smooth dirt path. She tackled the tom holding down the kit, and pushed him into the one holding down the she-cat. _

_"Nena, run!" she howled, throwing herself at another opponent. Without wasting a moment, the tabby mother heaved herself to her paws and sprinted for the woods, herding her kits in front of her. _

_Windheart was torn. She wanted to see the kits to safety, but what about the queen? At last she sprinted after the mother. But no scent had been left, no tracks. The whole forest began to fade around her as the scream of a dying cat struck her ears from behind her and the black and white queen fell for the last time. _

_Only the stars remained as the voice rang in her ears, chanting, "Son of Thunder, Lord of Shadows, Wind of Ages, River's Daughter." Slowly the voice melted into one, Whitefoot's, and Windheart's eyes snapped open._

Whitefoot lay in the same position, unmoving and stiff. Windheart knew she was dead. But she had not died in vain. The old Medicine Cat had shown Windheart her past. She did have relatives. But they were not in her Clan. They were the most important cats of all the others. Thunderfoot, Riverstripe, and Shadowpelt.

* * *

"She couldn't tell you. She didn't have the energy. So she showed you." Bristle voice was a low murmur as the new-found siblings stared at her. "So that's where this scar came from," Riverstripe murmured. Thunderfoot blinked as he remembered his vision. What-, or who-, ever had shown Windheart the vision, had shown him one too. That's why he had saved Riverstripe. His head had had no idea of the truth, but his heart had known the whole time. 

"The prophecy though. Is it true?" Moren answered. "It seems like it is. Son of Thunder is Thunderfoot, Lord of Shadows is Shadowpelt, Wind of Ages is Windheart, and River Daughter is Riverstripe. Your Clans were murdered by wolves and we are crossing the mountain of wind and snow. The pieces fit."

"What I want to know," Fernpelt mewed softly, "is;who are the 'Clan of the Star?' Windheart said that the stars seemed to speak to her. That must mean something. And Whitefoot's voice was one of them when she died."

Thunderfoot opened his mouth to speak when several Storm Treaders hurried in, covered in snow and accompanied by a scrawny, scared looking tom. He glanced around nervously and as his head moved his scent was flung into Thunderfoot's nostrils.

Immediately his blood began to boil. How _dare _this cat! Under the smell of rot and crow-food was the unmistakable scent of the cats that had attacked the camps. Without a thought he launched himself over the heads of the Storm Treaders and bowled the skinny tom over. Pinning him easily to the ground he slammed unsheathed claws into his face while his hind legs tore up fur and skin. The tom yowled in pain, his cry growing louder by the second until Thunderfoot felt teeth in his scruff and he was gently dragged away.

He didn't fight. The savage ferocity was gone, replaced with sadness. He slumped to the ground where Shadowpelt released him and didn't move or look up as the cat was taken away.

* * *

"I swear that's all I know!" the skinny tom pleaded. Riverstripe watched with cold satisfaction as the pathetic excuse for a cat cowered away from his interrogators. She had had no idea why Thunderfoot had attacked him until he was calm enough to explain. The rage in Shadowpelt's eyes and the hate in Windheart's had matched her own. 

"So your saying that your leader, Screave, used his second, Dogheart, who has the gift of tongues, to form an alliance with the wolves. Their help for our meat. He was after us because he thinks we are going to be the end of him and his Clan."

"Oh, he doesn't care about the Clan ma'am. As long as he lives, it doesn't matter how many die," the assassin interrupted.

"Well, we would have left him alone, if he had given us the same courtesy," Shadowpelt snarled, full of bloodlust.

Windheart quieted him with a stern glare and continued. "When he found we had escaped he sent search parties after us. And that's all?" The tom nodded.

Thunderfoot spoke this time. "Very well. We could have you killed." Shadowpelt hissed happily at this, "But we won't." Everyone stared. Riverstripe couldn't believe her brother. She blinked. It still felt odd to call this still strange cat her brother.

"What?" Shadowpelt hissed. "After what he did to all of us, we let him live?" Thunderfoot shrugged. "Do you really want to sink to their level. His life here as an outcast will be far worse. He will have years to think of what he's done, all by himself."

Crag, who had been quiet the whole time, spoke. "Thunderfoot is right. Do you really want to demote ourselves by acting as him?" Riverstripe sighed. She herself wanted no more than to sink her claws into his fur, but Thunderfoot and Crag were right. He would have to be spared.

_**a/n- short I know, I'm in a hurry. Please r&r!**_


	10. Shadow

**_Disclaimer: Okay, how many of you really think I stole this?_**

Chapter 10: Shadow

Shadowpelt followed the Storm Treaders, Prey Hunters, and Rock Climbers across the stony ground. Hunting on the mountain was harder than he'd thought. The three differently trained cats had to work together to bring in prey. Shadowpelt had been useless except when a single skinny mouse had darted across their path. Now he carried his meager catch in his mouth as the others moved easily, compared to his noisy scrambling that dislodged pebbles.

Their jaws full of squirrels, birds, fish, rabbits and something called a chinchilla they continued their relentless sprint. They had traveled a long time, running hard, to reach the some-what inhabited part of the mountain. When Shadowpelt had asked why they didn't head north, where the mountains gave way to valleys in less time it took to reach there, they had shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

Now, he could see the entrance to the cave. For at least a moon, the Clan cats had been growing stronger, physically and mentally, thought they had lost the Hunting Cat elder and the injured Hunting Cat guard. Everyone else, though, seemed to be recovering. Already the temporary leaders had decided to leave in two days. Those that wanted to stay behind were welcome.

Shadowpelt pushed his way into the cave and took his catch to his nest. This was all he had caught, this was all he would eat. He wasn't very hungry anyway. Thunderfoot padded up to him, and lay at his side. "We told the cats. Some, mostly queens, have decided to stay. The rest will come." Shadowpelt nodded to his brother. It still felt weird to be calling this tom his brother.

"Thanks. I don't know why, but I didn't want to be here when they found out. They were so upset by the deaths of your cats. They had grown close."

Thunderfoot nodded. "Oh, yes, I arranged a meeting with Crag and the leaders. About the thing we discussed earlier." Shadowpelt blinked, he'd almost forgotten. "Good," he murmured, "when?" Thunderfoot studied him for a moment, then grunted, "The night before we leave."

* * *

Riverstripe watched her sister and friend stare listlessly at the plump mountain chinchilla at her paws. She had lost weight after Whitefoot's death, not eating unless she was forced and barely sleeping. Her grief for her foster mother ran deep. Riverstripe had no idea how she was going to keep her going during the trip. They were leaving in the morning and she needed food. 

Padding over to the tabby she voice her thoughts, only to be answered by a small grunt.

"Windheart," Riverstripe began awkwardly, crouching beside her sister. She was no good at these kinds of things. "Whitefoot wouldn't have wanted you to ruin yourself like this. We need you to finish this journey. And _that's _what she wanted. For us to get through this."

Windheart stared at her with hollow eyes and didn't reply. Frustrated Riverstripe snarled, "If she could see you now, she would be ashamed! This isn't how she raised you!" Stalking away, she felt a twinge of guilt. If only she could keep a reign on her temper! About to turn around, she saw out of the corner of her eye, her sister bend down and start eating.

* * *

"You called this meeting Lords of the Low Lands? What is it you want?" Snake glared at them. They might have been accepted by the other cats, but he still didn't trust them. Shadowpelt watched the slinky black tom suspiciously. He didn't trust him either. Thunderfoot spoke. Beside him Windheart, looking better since, according to Riverstripe, she had forced her to eat, watched intently. 

"We need to ask. Did you, your Blacksmith, Forger, or their apprentices, ever teach anyone about fire?"

The gray tom, Forger, spoke up. "A few moons back, almost a year, a bunch of our branches went missing. We don't know what happened to them. It couldn't have been the apprentices. We would have known." Blacksmith, the orange tom, spoke grimly, "I think its time we brought in our little friend."

* * *

Shadowpelt padded to his nest later that night, head reeling. They had learned a little from the assassin, but it was enough. He himself had snuck into the Forge that day. He had been among the small group that had taken shelter there. He had read the script of images carved into the wall that only a fully fledged Forger or Blacksmith knew. He had tamed fire. As to how he had come to know the language he wouldn't say. The more they had pressed, the more antsy he had become. He must have extreme loyalty, which Shadowpelt doubted, or his leader threatened him with something gruesome. But before they left, the two Fire-Keepers had told them something else.  
How to tame fire.

* * *

Thunderfoot glanced over his shoulder at the line of cats following him. At the end, Shadowpelt and Riverstripe make sure no cats fell behind. He turned back and followed the Storm Treaders paw -steps. Ahead, Rock Climbers scouted while Prey Hunters looked for food. "How far did you say you were escorting us?" Thunderfoot asked. The Storm Treader glanced at him. "We will take you to the edge of the Valley of Thorns. That is over our western border, but we will move quickly." He hesitated then added, "My advice is to tread carefully and whatever you do, stay out of the valley. Strange cats are said to live their. We avoid it as much as possible." Thunderfoot shuddered instinctively, then shook it off. They had other problems besides kit's tales.

* * *

"We will camp here for the night. In the morning we will reach the Valley of Thorns." The Storm Treader rang clearly through the night air. Over a week had passed since they left the Cave and the climate had grown warmer, the prey more bountiful, and the snow less and less. Thunderfoot wondered why the Mountain Cats didn't live here. But whenever he asked, they turned away, looking scared. The only thing he had gotten was out of the Storm Treader on the second day. He found it coincidental that that very cat no longer had any duties with him.

* * *

Riverstripe groaned as she stared at the mouse in front of her. The heights and sudden change of climate were making her sick. But mostly the heights. 

It didn't help that camp that night was stationed on a small outcropping that overlooked a deep valley-like-chasm that seemed to have no bottom.

"Come on," Windheart urged. Unlike her sister she looked great. Although still sad about Whitefoot, she seemed to have taken hope from the warmer climate and abundant prey. Just being on the move again seemed to give her once again thick coat an extra gloss.

"You have to eat something. Boulder says that it gets worse on an empty stomach." Sighing, Riverstripe bent and took a bite.

* * *

The next morning, Riverstripe rose, limbs protesting. She had spent the whole night vomiting up what little of the mouse she had eaten, or tossing and turning uncomfortably. Wren, who had stayed by her side all night, was no better off. 

"I am exhausted," he yawned. "At least we'll be off this mountain today." Realizing what he had said, a new hope sparked in Riverstripe's chest. No more cliffs or rocks or snow. No more mountains. After a brief break in which they all ate Riverstripe fell in at the end of the line.

* * *

Thunderfoot started forward to speak with one of the guides, to see why that had stopped, only to be stopped himself by Mouse. "Thunderfoot," she mewed, "I have a feeling something bad is going to happen. Ever since we set out there's been this- this growing feeling of dread. We shouldn't go this way." Mouse looked so concerned that Thunderfoot hesitated. "I'll speak to the guide. See if there's another way." 

His apprentice nodded, looking relieved, when a yowl split through the air, Wren's "I smell Highlanders, heading this way!"

Yowling for a halt the guides stopped, lifting their noses to the wind. Eyes widening in surprise, they tore up the path the Clan cats had just come from. Curious, Thunderfoot followed suit and the scent that met his nose was sickeningly familiar, a scent he was becoming used to. Blood.

* * *

Windheart watched as five bloody, tired cats trudged down the ridge. Mountain cats. She winced at the blood that smeared their coats, the wounds that made them limp and gasp. She had a nasty feeling as to what had happened. The search parties had caught up. 

Shaking her head she padded forward, gently pushing aside two playing apprentices, a Hunting Clan cat and Running Clan cat. She wasn't even surprised by these kind of things any more. The Clan boundaries were quickly disappearing.

Fernpelt, Bristle, and Moren were checking on the five cats when she approached. "… came out of nowhere. Others made it out. Most did, actually, but a few were killed. I don't know where they went, and I don't fancy wandering the mountains with them on the loose. We'll stick with you."

At this Windheart's hear sank into her stomach. She had been expecting this, but a small part of her had hoped it wasn't true.

"If this continues, they'll catch up with us soon," Shadowpelt growled. "They must have found the body of the tom and followed it upriver to our scents." As if in answer, a distant howl sent a shiver through all the cats spines, but common sense told them not to run. Knowing the cats had seen what these wolves could do, Windheart was proud they had not bolted.

"We should flee into the valley," Windheart mewed as she sat by them.

"No," the mountain cats answered immediately. "Strange cats live there. We would be killed"

It was Wren, sitting beside Riverstripe and Thunderfoot, who answered. "At least in the valley we'll have a chance. We'll die if we stay up here."

The party said nothing, but looked down into the black vastness of the gorge. An apprentice accidentally dislodged a pebble, which fell, swallowed up in shadow.

**_Read and review please!_**


	11. Valley of Thorns

Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books

Chapter 11: Valley of Thorns

"We'll risk the gorge," Thunderfoot's voice rang through the air. The mountain cats wilted but nodded.

Shadowpelt leaping ahead, Thunderfoot took the lead.

Riverstripe sighed. More heights. At least this time she wouldn't be able to see them. Or anything else.

She sighed again and watched as the last cat disappeared over the gorge. Swallowed by shadow.

* * *

The cats padded single file along the thin path into the gorge. As Thunderfoot lead, he regretted with every ounce of his body, ever persuading the others to follow. He could barely see in front of him, and behind, he was blocked by more darkness. Only the glowing eyes of the cats at hss back and their labored breathing kept him from hyperventilating. 

Far ahead, Shadowpelt raced, the only one of the cats who could see well in the dark. It had been hours or minutes, Thunderfoot had lost track of the time when the sun disappeared from view, since they had left. Now, one shadow broke apart from the rest and ran up to him.

At first his half crazed mind thought it was a demon, but then Shadowpelt spoke, and his fur lay flat."The bottom of the gorge is about two hours away, the speed we're going," he reported. "It's lighter down their. Dim, but lighter."

Thunderfoot nodded and Riverstripe spoke from his side. "Keep scouting ahead. We'll meet you at the bottom." The black tom nodded and turned around, disappearing into shadow.

* * *

At the bottom, Shadowpelt waited for the others to catch up. He was nervous. They should have been here by now, right? He kept hearing noises. The bottom of the gorge was dimly lit, colorless. Everything seemed made of black or gray.

Suddenly, a shale of pebbles falling from one wall made him jump. He whipped around, only to come face to face with Thunderfoot.

"What in the name of StarClan?" he hissed, then realized what he had said. Where had that come from? StarClan? From the prophecy? Before he could ponder this anymore, the rest of the cats crept from the path. They looked wary and cautious, but glad to see light.

"Come," Thunderfoot yowled and started off. Windheart approached him. "It's best we don't send out any scouts. We should stay together, now that we can see." Shadowpelt nodded agreement, along with Riverstripe. He did not want to go out alone again.

* * *

An hour of walking later, and Windheart knew they were being followed. She had been hearing the occasional pebble trickle down the side of the canyon, a fleeting shadow out of the corner of her eye. But it was the _feeling _of being watched that made her fur bristle. At least it had gotten lighter, so colors were pretty much back to normal.

And then suddenly, a troop of cats larger than theirs stepped out of the shadows. Just like that.

They were the oddest looking bunch of cats she had ever seen. Scrawny, but lithely muscled, their fur stuck up in all directions, unwashed and clumped with mud. Their pelt were all colors of the valley. Oranges, yellows, and reds of all different shades. Tabbies and tortoiseshells, solids and splotched.

But it was their… ornaments that distracted Windheart the most. Some wore small, sharpened, bones through their ears, nose, or tail. Feathers were slathered with mud and slapped onto their fur, along with bits and pieces of different animals pelts. What appeared to be berry juice stained certain parts of their fur. Some looked like berry juice, at least. The rest looked like dried blood.

One spoke, a big orange tabby with the most decorations on him, in a gruff voice as if not used to verbalizing, "You trespass in Valley of Thorns."

Thunderfoot stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak, but the cat's huge paw came down unsheathed and smashed him in the head. Face blank as he watched the tom yowl, the valley cat continued. "You come with us."

* * *

Thunderfoot's face still stung as the party entered what had to be the cats home. He couldn't see them in the rubble of fallen rocks riddled with ancient inscriptions, but he could smell them. Beside him, Mouse quivered. He looked forward again.

As they emerged from the long trail in between the piles of rubble, the sudden light of the 'clearing' dazzled him. It was the only place not full of rock and rubble. But the light also shed light on a gruesome sight.

Straight in front of them, two huge slaps of rock had come together to from a cone. The entrance was hung with fur. Steps had been made to lead up to it's base. The very top step, though, was wider and smoother. It appeared to be smeared and crusted with blood.

At the base of the cliff, and event the lower ledges, sat, hung, and dangled all kinds of bones and decaying animals. Small mice, rabbits, or voles, to owls, foxes, badgers and coyotes. Thunderfoot even saw several cat skeletons there, some not more than kits.

As he looked up, he saw the most horrifying thing yet. On the higher ledges, bones and sticks had been placed vertically into cages, and so long were the bones that none of the captors could get out. Even if they were short enough, Thunderfoot doubted they could. Some were corpses, rotting and old. Others were fresher, and appeared to have been skinned. Those that weren't dead looked it. They were so skinny that every single bone poked from their ragged, dull fur, which was coming of in clumps. Some had wounds that were black or green, and oozing slime. All had sunken eyes and odd signs smeared onto their bodies with berry juice or blood. It was hard to tell. A small circle ran around their nose, and slashes over their eyes. A feather, black as night, had been plastered with mud onto their tails.

Suddenly, three cats stepped out of the shelter. One was extremely tall, with amazingly long legs. He had two sharpened bones stuck horizontally through his nose, more and brighter feathers plastered to his fur, and what appeared to be the skull of a cat on his head.

The other two were identical grays, scrawny and cruel looking. A black feather, died red to it's middle, was braided into their shoulder fur. They were only a little less decorated than the first, with small fox skulls on their heads, but they had no bone in their nose. All three were oddly marked, but not with berry juice. With scars.

To Thunderfoot, they were the most atrocious cats he had ever seen.

Their guide hurried forward, then stopped suddenly on the second to last step. He bowed his head, nose touching the ground, and folded his front paws beneath him. He kept his eyes closed as he spoke in a fast, guttural language.

At last the cat stepped back.

Then the big tom spoke. Not in a voice that sounded like he was foreign the their language. In a way that sounded as if he had been raised to it. "You dare to trespass in the Valley of Thorns? Home of the Great Canyon Cat since the first Holes were punctured in the sky for the Cat to crawl through? The Priests," he motioned to the twins with a jerk of his tail, "think you should be sacrificed. But I will let the Canyon Cat decide."

He turned and jerked his head to the Priest. They rushed forward. One grabbed a kit, another an apprentice. When their guardians moved forward, they were warned away by hateful hisses.

As the two cats were dragged up to the first Thunderfoot had a sinking feeling of what was about to happen. He stepped forward, only to be slammed back by a Canyon Cat. The tom pinned him to the ground and he watched helplessly as the apprentice and kit were pinned to ground and strange inscriptions were drawn into their fur as the Priests began to chant.

* * *

Riverstripe watched in horror as the chanting stopped suddenly. The two Priest let out an earsplitting yowl, throwing their head back to the stars. Then, suddenly, they plunged them back down in unison… right into the throats of the two cats. A scream rose from the Clan cats, half yowl half screach, and a queen sagged to the ground, unconscious.

Riverstripe moaned, her sight becoming blurry as the cat's blood was spread, first on the rock, then the faces of the three cats. The Priest picked up the bodies and carried them into the den.

Riverstripe collapsed.

* * *

When she came to, Riverstripe found herself in one of the odd cages on the cliff. Looking around, she saw all the other cats had been treated likewise. Glancing down, her stomach churned at the long drop. But when her eyes rested on the dead apprentice and kit, who were back on the blood-smeared rock, without their fur, she couldn't help it. She threw up, then collapsed again.

_Her eyes opened to a strange sight. She was seated in a clearing, four large, ancient oaks surrounding her. The wind blew gently across the grass. Something, an inner voice, drew her gaze to the sky. She gasped. The stars were writhing and twisting, and suddenly, they began to descend. The closer they came, the more Riverstripe began to realize they looked like cats. Only when they had settled around her, did she recognize faces. Cats she new from her Clan, Brook and Fire-eyes included. The FightingClan cat who had died in the river, and the kit and apprentice who had been killed earlier. Even Whitefoot was there. Then they spoke, in many voice, yet in one. "StarClan is always with you. We will keep you safe." A sudden snarl broke through the night air and she awoke._

_

* * *

_

Windheart saw Riverstripe collapse, and then, anable to do anything else, watched as the moon made its slow pace in the sky. It was only at its highest now when a rock crumbled from its place above her head. She looked up, but saw nothing. Turning her gaze back to Riverstripe, she gasped.

A cat, larger than even the wolves who had attacked them, and the color of the canyon, was crouched above her cage. It snarled, and at that moment Riverstrip's eyes snapped open. She yowled. A few cats lifted their heads, blinking sleepily.

Windheart felt panic for her sister well in her chest. What could she do? Suddenly, a howl broke through the air. Close. Very close.

Eighteen wolves thundered into the rubble-camp, snarling and killing. Cats were running, yowling, screaming. They streamed out of the entrance, and found paw-holds on the seemingly sheer ledge, scrambling to safety.

Suddenly, a wolf twice the size of the others, with bulging muscles, leapt at her. His eyes had none of the savage intelligence she saw in the others. They were full of pure hate for all living things. His fangs, twice the size of normal ones, were tinged yellow. Old, and new, blood crusted his unwashed fur and muzzle. What appeared to be a harness wrapped around his body.

Windheart panicked. He was far worse than any of the others. He leapt again, powerful jaws closing on bones the size of her head, and snapping them with ease, breakng the cage. Heart pounding in her ears, she lunged over his head. A small part of her couldn't help but think that it would have been better to die with the others, at the Sacred Grounds.

**_a/n- short, I know, and not my best writing, but I'm home (for now) and I wanted to get something up. please r&r._**


	12. Lord of Shadow

**_Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books_**

**_a/n- sorry I took so long to update. It's going to take longer now that I have to type each chapter before posting it. _**

Chapter 12: Lord of Shadow

A red dawn rose on the small band of bedraggled cats who trudged beside the ledge of the canyon.

Thunderfoot couldn't believe so many had been able to escape. They had gotten out similarly. The wolves had easily crushed the cages. But it wasn't the wolves that bothered him anymore. It was the Beast.

He didn't know what had happened to it, didn't know if it was really called the Beast. All he knew was that with that thing at their tail, they were in constant danger.

They clambered along the edge of the gorge, silent, to horrified by what had happened, and what might have happened, to speak. Thunderfoot found himself thinking ironically, _Twas the wolves that saved us, same ones that destroyed us._

As least they were safe for now. The wolves couldn't have followed them, their scents were to mixed up, going in all directions and mixed with that of the Canyon Cats.

As if in mockery of this thought a howl rose through the air, behind them. Thunderfoot's eyes widened.

The wolves were catching up.

* * *

At the sound of the howl, all the cats began to scatter. Even Riverstripe panicked, but, forcing it down, she yowled above the noise in a thunderous voice, "Stop!" 

Every cat skidded to a halt, a lifetime of following the orders of their Elite's forcing them to freeze.

"It won't do any good, us scattering like that. We'll never be able to find each other." Windheart spoke this time.

Riverstripe was glad. Her voice hurt from shouting so loudly.

Suddenly, quiet Shadowpelt spoke in a voice no one knew he possessed. "I will stay behind to distract the wolves." All the cats gasped. Riverstripe stared. This cat was insane!

She hurried forward, to speak with him, Thunderfoot and Windheart beside her. She would persuade him this was madness! If he didn't listen, she would drag him along by the scruff!

Unfortunatly, Windheart beat her to it. The normally gentle she-cat spoke in a harsh voice. "Shadowpelt this is insane! You'll die!"

Shadowpelt glared. "I don't care. I want to fight back!"

Windheart met his gaze evenly. "Then let me stay. I'm the fastest"

"I don't want to run," he spat. "I'm sick of running. I want to fight! That's what I was born to do."

This was to much."I'm not going to let you," Riverstripe hissed. Turning to her other brother, she growled, "Thunderfoot, back me up!" He was frowning slightly at the other tom.

At last he murmured, "Shadowpelt should stay if he wants. I agree. I would stay too, if I didn't know that he had to do this alone."

Riverstripe gaped. Both her brothers had lost it. The horror of the other night must have affected their brains. But looking into Shadowpelt eyes, she saw a fierce determination, addled brain or not. She sighed. "If he wants to stay, I'd rather he do it with my blessing."

* * *

Shadowpelt watched as his sibling wove through the cats, explaining and soothing. Suddenly, Sheba burst from the crowd. "Are you insane!" she screeched. "What in the name of the Great Clan's do you think your doing!" 

Shadowpelt sighed. "I have to do this Sheba. You might not understand why, but I have to." She glared at him, then began to busily wash his face.

"I understand," she snapped. "I just don't like it." She sighed and stopped washing. "Promise you'll come back in one piece?"

He grinned, and gave her ear a lick. "I'll do my best"

Suddenly, there was a terrible baying. He whipped around. The wolves were closing in. they had come to soon! They weren't supposed to be here for at least an hour. Looking around frantically, he realized it was to late for the cats to run.

* * *

Windheart gaped at the approaching pack in horror. They were here way to soon! A small party had pulled ahead of the rest apprently as only four, harnessed to that ghastly Beast, were there. 

Suddenly, there was a streak, black as shadow, and one wolf went down, the tendons behind his leg cut. Shadowpelt doubled back, outpacing them, and turned again to face them again.

Glancing over her shoulder, Windheart saw Thunderfoot and Riverstripe rounding up the rest of the cats. She turned to help. Fifteen minutes later, they were gone from sight.

She glanced over her shoulder, a kit in her mouth. It's mother and the other two kits, born in the Mountain, clambered beside her.

Only Beast remained on his feet. Shadowpelt looked ruffled, and there was a deep gash running from his right ear to his left shoulder. The two faced each other off. Suddenly, the wolf charged. He leapt over Shadowpelt and charged straight at Windheart and the terrified queen.

Dropping the kit, Windheart lunged forward, slamming into the Beast's shoulder. It seemed more surprised than hurt as her claws dug and tore, and easily flipped her to the ground. Pinning her down, a powerful paw on her chest, it lowered it's head.

Windheart shivered.

It's eyes were full of hate, not only for cats, but for all living things. His breath reeked of rotten meat and his massive fangs, crusted with old blood along with the rest of his body, dripped some of the saliva hanging from his mouth. He snarled, driving a wave of nausea through her entire body. She wanted to throw up.

Suddenly, he was torn off her. She scrambled to her paws. A black shadow had attached itself to the Beast's face, and it was stumbling back, it's back paw's slipped on the edge of the cliff. It struggled for a hold, and slipped more. She limped over to where it clung onto the ledge. It snarled.

Ignoring it, she reached for Shadowpelt, and mewed softly, "Climb off of him now. He'll fall."

Her brother turned to look at her, eyes sad. "If I let go, he'll will get back up." He took a deep breath then, reaching back, placed a paw over the wolf's. He looked her in the eye. "Goodbye, Windheart. Tell the others farewell, and please, tell Sheba I am sorry I broke my promise. I will be Lord of Shadow forever." With that he dug his claws into the Beast's paw. With a snarl the wolf let go and Windheart watched helplessly as both cat and wolf were plummeted into shadow.

**_a/n- please don't kill me for getting rid of Shadowpelt! ducks pointy sticks thrown from angry readers It will make sense by the end!_**

**_And I know it's short, but it's something, right? Please R&R. I only got one review for my last chapter. Again, not my best writing, but I wanted to get something up. Febuary break is coming, and I'll type a couple of chapters then. Good ones! Long ones!  
_**


	13. Streetrats

**_Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books. (which is quite a lot if you think about it)_**

Chapter 13: The Streetrats

_The slavering jaws of the wolf were torn suddenly from her throat. She scrambled to her paws. A black shadow had clamped onto the animals head. Backing away from the pain, the wolf slipped, pawing vainly for a hold. The shadow still clung to his face. Running up, she held out a paw. "Shadowpelt, Climb off of him! He'll fall!"  
The tom turned its face to answer, but all she saw was the half decayed face, maggots streaming from his eyes, of one of the bodies from the Valley of Thorns. She screamed and the shadow of the canyon reached up to grab wolf and cat._

Windheart awoke with a start. It had been a moon since Shadowpelt had died, but she still had nightmares of that terrible valley.

She sighed and got to her paws, padding to the edge of the cluster of sleeping cats. She stared wistfully at the moon, wishing, not for the first time, she was back home in the Elites den where she belonged.

"I miss him," a voice behind her murmured. She jumped and spun, then relaxed. It was Sheba. Windheart nodded. "I'd give anything to have him back. He gives our people hope." Sheba nodded silently, and the two she-cats sat the rest of the night away, two different cats from two very different Clans, minds focused on the same thought Or rather, the same cat.

* * *

Thunderfoot awoke, staring sleepily at the happy face before him.

He batted Mouse aside lightly. "Please don't wake me that way. It's unnerving."

Mouse rolled her eyes. "I have a report. A patrol went out this morning, a few miles west. We found a… weird village. Odd, hairless, beasts that walk on two-legs. Their teeth are blunt, their nails are useless, and their flesh is soft. How they managed to survive for so long is beyond me."

* * *

Riverstripe trotted cautiously across the odd flat path, just like the one Windheart had described from her vision.

The last party of cats followed, barely missing the rock hard paws of the massive Stone-feet that pulled the two-leggers in odd wooden contraptions. The harness that wrapped around the Stone-foot looked exactly like the one Beast had been wearing, even the strips of hide the two-legs had tied to the rings on the harness looked like the ones in the 'Keeper' wolves mouths. (a/n- Stone-feet horses. The harnass is a cart harness, with rings the reigns go in. the wolves hold the reigns, thus holding the wolf. The double reins make it possible for four wolves to hold on.)

She sighed, glad the last cat was across. They all huddled in the alley of the two buildings, shaking in fear of it all. She didn't blame them. The two-leggers might be useless looking, but they were smart.

Suddenly a heavily accented voice spoke from the shadows. "Ye've entered th' land o' the Gang of the Streetrats, lead by Sally Bones." (a/n- name from the book Varjak Paw by SF Said)

A large scarred tom stepped out of the shadows. His face was cold and menacing, but all that vanished in a heartbeat as he looked them over. "Ye ain't from any Gangs 'round 'ere. Ye don't even smell like th' place." He studied them. "Come wit' me."

* * *

A while later, Windheart found herself in a particularly large alley.

The Home Alley.

On the half-hour walk of weaving through side-streets, alleys, and something smelly called a sewer, she had managed to gather some information. The city, (a/n- this takes place in the 1700s, in a 'sophisticated' town) was divided by Gangs. Gangs had boundaries that were lengthened when food was scarce. The larger the Gang, the more Land you had, the more you could keep, and the more you could take. There were even Neutral areas.

The Streetrats, or Sally Bone's Gang, was the largest and most known. The Mudwalkers, Sewermice, and Dirtrollers were the other three main Gangs. There were smaller ones, though, scattered all around. There were what were called 'Loners' who lived alone, or with one or two other cats, and stayed away from Gang business and fights.

A cat could join a Gang whenever he wanted. There was no system of organization. You either survived or you didn't. They did have patrols though, which was the reason the Forest Cats were here in the first place.

Suddenly, a skrawny white she-cat stepped out of the shadows. Despite her ragged, skinny appearance, she seemed powerful and imposing.

When she spoke her voice was cold and harsh. "What are ye doin' my land? Twist, where'd you pick 'em up?"

The big tom who had captured them answered, "Near the edge o' Lunar's territory. We was patrolin' see. Them Mudwalkers been awful bold o' late. Anyways, we was there when I hears this mutterin'. I creep up, real slow-like, and what do I see's but a load o' huddlin cats, them smellin like the trees and the skies and the bogs. Blood to. Course, I don't notice alla this 'til they was all there.  
Anyway's, they was a'crossin the street, dodgin 'orses, so's I waited for 'em to finish, see'in as it twas better'n havin' to do it meself, and I just asked 'em what they was do'in on the land o' Sally Bones. Tis then I realized they smelt like the sky and the trees and all. So's I brought them here."

Sally Bones nodded slowly as Twist sat back. She beckoned with her tail to a young brown tabby she-cat. "Flick, gather up som'a others n' finish patrolin' the Mudwalker's border. Can't leave them places open for to long. You, Roach, take one 'long the Sewermice land."

She turned back to the party. "I'm sure the rest've us 'ould like to 'ear yer story. We've all day, so don't go excusin' yerself sayin' s'to long."

Windheart stepped gingerly forward. She didn't know why, but her paws drove her on. She was unbelievably nervous. _You've faced wolves and fire and every other cursed thing there is to fear. A story should be nothing! _she thought angrily.

"Well…" she began, starting as far back as she could go. The more she talked, the easier it became. She tried to explain as much as possible, to make it easier for the alley cats to know what they were talking about. She paused once, mouth dry, and a water soaked ball of moss was brought to her. The water was a little metallic-y, but she was thirsty.At last, an hour later, with questions and help from the other cats, she finished.

Sally Bones gazed at them, face expressionless, then mewed at last, "Musta been hard, havin' ta leave like that. I've no idea what I'd do wit'out me allies. We can't offer ye's a long stay, but a few nights won't 'urt. Yer welcome till' yer on yer paws agin."

* * *

Two long weeks later found Riverstripe hunting with the Gang cats. They were deliberately sneaking onto the Dirtroller's territory, so that the Gang would know that for every scrap of food taken off of the Streetrat's land without leave would be paid back in double, prey and blood. The _Streetrats _were the lead Gang around here at the moment, and they were to be treated that way!  
"Stay low," the gray tabby, Weed, growled gruffly. "We don't wants ta be saw's afore we gotta."

Beside him Weevil, Slide, Knox, Rat, Pigeon, Mutt, and Dancer shifted, patient as any thief. Suddenly, none other than the scout Thief, whom they had sent ahead earlier, came back.

"Alls clear," he murmured. "The second party, Digger, Manky, Scrap, Nugget, Tabs, Cludge, Measle, Weasle, Runt, and Holly is waitn' fer the signal. Tam is a'waiten to, wit' Scraggle, Triss, Mangle, Pox, Shrink, Cloud, Abby, Ajax, Red, and Amber. Alls they needs is th' signal,"he repeated.

Weed nodded, then asked suddenly, "What happened t' Flick, Twist, n' Roach?" Thief grinned. "They wann'ed ta lead a patrol fr'm the north, but old Bones wouldn't let em and they got all mad. She told em ta take patrols t' th' oth'r borders and cool down."

Riverstripe, not for the first time, felt out of place in this strange world. Her cats were leaving in two days, though, and she wanted to repay them for their kindness.She moved up to Weed.

"So the plan is: we get as much food as possible while the others distract them?"

Weed nodded, then flashed her a grin. "Ye up for it kitty?"

She blinked. "What's a kitty?"

"Them perty, lit'le, prim cats that live in them two-legger nests? Wit' the perty little things 'round their necks, called collars?"

She nodded. She'd seen one in a clear-wall (a window it was called). "The one's that looke at you like your dirt?"

His grin widened. "That's them."

Manky snorted. " 'Pets' I heard 'em called once. _Pets_. Them kitties 'ave no dignity left."

Mutt snorted laughter. "Kitty-pets," he wheezed through a nosed that had been injured by a horse.

Suddenly, a panting she-cat ran up. Riverstripe recognized her as Tabs. "The signal is ta' be given in five minutes, Bones says."

Weed nodded. "Mind yerselves. I'd skin ye personally if'n ye ruin it now. We leave in five."

* * *

"If'n yer ever in need o' help, just ask," Sally Bones mewed gruffly. The whole Gang had escorted them to the edge of their land, but only Sally Bones had brought the all the way through the Sewermice' land, to the edge of the town. The thin line in the distance promised woodland. Perhaps they were closer to home than they'd thought.

Thunderfoot nodded. He would miss the allies and the not-so-gruff cats a little. "Thanks for all you have done." Sally Bones nodded. "Anytime."

With a last farewell, the cats started off on their journey once more.

**_I know! A completly useless chapter. At the moment. It will make sense as the story continues. As I said, the name Sally Bones comes from the book Varjak Paw, as do the names Holly and Tam. Please review. Reviews make me want to update faster. Without them, I just might forget to type over Feb. break and then you'll have to wait two weeks for the next chapter! Mwa ha ha!_**


	14. Mouth in the Earth

**_Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books_**

Chapter 14: Mouth in the Earth

"What?"  
A cats screech cut through the night air.  
"They escaped?"

A trembling voice.  
"Y-yes m-m'lord. T-twas all chaos. There were so many cats…" his voice trailed off weakly.

The cat screech again, followed by a cry of pain and a hollow thump. A two-leg yelled, and the screech quieted.

Two cats slipped from the shadows of an alley, an old black tom and a younger ginger and white tom.

"Dogheart" the black cat snarled, "throw that cat to the Beast, before he wakes up and puts up a fight. If he does, tell him I warned him."

From where he stood, so the black cat couldn't see him, the ginger splotched tom rolled his eyes, but answered politely, "The Beast is gone Lord, with the Shadow."

With a snort, the black growled, "Then give him to the other wolves, as a treat."

"Yes Lord. What about the other three cats?"

The black sighed. "Since these dung-brained cats can't do it, I will go after the rest, with a party of wolves and cats. You will come with me. We will stop in that canyon. I captured that Beast when I was younger than you. I know he can survive far worse than a fall."

* * *

Far away, in a dark canyon, a limp shadow suddenly twitched, rose stiffly, and, throwing back its head, howled to the moon, telling all that his hunt was not yet done. (a/n- obviously this is all happening while they are traveling to the alleys, not while they're at the alleys or leaving them)

* * *

"Thunderfoot," Riverstripe yowled happily, "I smell forests and rivers!" 

Windheart purred. Three weeks of hard traveling had brought them to the forest they had seen from the alleys. She blinked in surprise as the smell of a moor was brought to her nostrils.

"And moor!" she yowled. Beside him Sheba, who had taken control of the Clan of the Fighting Cat, added dully, "Swamp and marsh too."

Windheart moved over to give the she-cats ears a quick lick of assurance. "Shadowpelt would have been proud," she murmured. The she-cat, despite her grief, had pulled the Clan together and led them on. Sheba sighed. "Its just…" her voice trailed off, and then she wailed, "There were four cats in StarClans prophecy, not three!"

* * *

Riverstripe trudged ahead, lured by the smell of fresh clean water, and the sound of running streams. 

Beside her Wren murmured, "The first thing I'm going to do when we get there is claim whatever water there is as ours."

Riverstripe blinked. She hadn't thought that this would be their new home. She hadn't even thought of finding a new home for a long time, only getting through another day.

She purred. "It will be good to settle down again. But a few things will have to change." Wren nodded, then glanced up at the night sky. "We'll follow the stars," he murmured. "StarClan has guided us this far."

* * *

"Riverstripe, Windheart, I smell… well I'm not sure what it is, but…" Thunderfoot came panting up. "It smell like wolf, but there are many more, and it's a little different. Less bloody, more woodsy. And it smells as if the things are always highstrung." 

Bristle, Fernpelt, and Moren stepped forward. "Show us where this is Thunderfoot."

He nodded, and Windheart mewed, "Wren, you're in charge until we get back."

Riverstripe followed Bristle through the leaves. It couldn't be more wolves could it?

"Here," Thunderfoot murmured. The three Medicine Cats stepped forward. They sniffed carefully around the clearing for a moment, and Riverstripe shifted with impatience.

At last they came forward. "Coyote," Moren grunted. "Fresh too. We should find a place to shelter for the night."

Thunderfoot nodded. "I found a series of caves up ahead." His eyes widened slightly. "It was like a mouth in the earth." He grinned. "Like Bristle when she yawns. A Mother's mouth." Bristle batted him playfully, and he went on. "The smell of two-legs is about a moon old. It looks like there was Stone- I mean horses, there, but its completely deserted now." He sighed. "I wish Shadowpelt was here. I need someone with good night vision to make sure that the cave is safe."

Sheba stepped up. "We grew up together. I can see as well as him."

Windheart blinked. "You're willing to enter a tiny tunnel in the side of a cliff and follow it to an ending that might not be there?"

It was Fernpelt that spoke next. "The first thing they would do, if they had any sense, was make a second passage out, in case of cave-ins, and to keep the air flowing."

When everyone stared, she grumbled "When I was an apprentice, we were making those underground tunnels for cats who got trapped there in a storm, or in case of fires, which we had a lot then. I had to learn how to stay safe."

Bristle looked thoughtful. "So there has to be a place out, no matter what tunnel she takes?"

Fernpelt nodded. "If these two-leggers are as smart as we hope, everything should work out."

* * *

Sheba stared at the gaping mouth of the cave. 

Her heart hammering in her ears, she thought that maybe she shouldn't have volunteered. She looked back at the hopeful faces of the Clan cats, and hardened her heart.

With a deep breath, she dived in. She felt as if she was being swallowed by a huge beast. She could see nothing, good vision or not, but she could smell the slightest breezed. She was nervous. Her limbs shook, making it hard to move over the stony ground that she couldn't see.

After a particularly bad fall, in which she scraped her paws, she stopped and forced herself to calm down. In the quiet she gasped. The breezed seemed to carry to her whispers, all so tangled that she couldn't make them out, but she heard them and for some reason they reassured her. She continued.

Now, though, he limbs began to shake from cold. It was colder than the darkest night in the winding tunnels.

She went and went, the thin air making her light-headed. Again she began to panic. What if the two-leggers hadn't made a second tunnel? Or she had made a wrong turn? She would be stuck in these narrow tunnels until she died!

Panicking, she bolted, not even realizing the change in scent until she burst from the tunnel. The sudden light dazzled her.

It had been almost dark when she had entered the tunnels, and now it was completely night. But the moon shone through a hole in the roof, down on a gleaming rock, it's many shining faces bathing the dark cave in light. It looked like a cat had taken a pawful of stars and clumped them together. For a long moment she stared.

Then she heard it.  
The yelping of dogs. Her eyes widened. The Clans! Turning, she bolted back through the tunnel, paying attention to nothing, the time or where she was going.

The breeze voices urged her on. At last she erupted from the tunnel, expecting to see a bloody clearing of fighting and dying cats. But all was peaceful. A queen bathed her kits near the edge of the trees, while two apprentices play-fought beside a couple of Hunters and Soliders sharing tongues.

She felt foolish as Thunderfoot, Windheart, and Riverstripe walked up to her with the Medicine Cats. "Is everything okay? You came out of that tunnel as if you were being chased by StarClan!"

Sheba sighed. "I thought I heard-" her voice was cut off as a series high, excited yips. "Into the caves!" she howled. The Clan cats scrambled to their paws. "I'll go first to make sure everyone turns the right way. You'll follow?"

Windheart nodded. "Go!"

* * *

Thunderfoot watched as a queen's tail disappeared into the cave. He glanced over his shoulder. Suddenly, the baying grew and what had to be the coyotes burst from the trees. A huge pack of small wolf-like animals, though they didn't seem as bloodthirsty, but just as mean rushed toward them. 

Immediately, a line of cats leapt forward. Thunderfoot wanted to join them, but he had to get the rest of the cats to safety. Plus, if the dogs broke through the line, he had to be here, not there.

He ushered the last trainee in, the glanced around. The coyotes had been pushed back to the tree line.

"SwimmingClan cats, pull back to the tunnel, one at a time." First one fighter, then another, broke away. Now only FightingClan, HuntingClan, and RunningClan cats remained.

"HuntingClan cats," he yowled, knowing that the FightingClan cats would be the best to defend the cave, while the RunningClan cats could bolt faster than any coyote when he gave the signal. One by one his Clan disappeared into the cave.

The cats were begin pushed back. "FightingClan," he yowled. They followed without complaint. He glanced at the RunningClan cats, who were now rapidly being pushed back.

"Hurry," he hissed. At long last, the coyotes now only two tail-lengths away, he yowled, "RunningClan cats!" The cats bolted, one at a time, until they were down to only five and being pushed back by the second. They ran for the cave at his yowl, and he plunged after them.

With a shiver, he heard the click of jaws barely missing his tail, and warm breath on his flank.

He hurried deeper into the mouth of the earth.

They had made it.

**_This chapter may seem a bit empty of use, but they discover the Moonstone and Mothermouth. Also, something happens with it in the next chapter, but this seemed like a good place to stop. R&R and I'll update faster. Oh, I've posted another story (oneshot songfic) I want to know if it is good or not.. I only have two reviews, and they both say its good, but I don't like it that much. Maybe you could check it out and tell me what you think..._**


	15. Ice and Fire

**_Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books. _**

****

Chapter 15: Ice and Fire

Windheart yawned and looked around at the sleeping cats.

The barking of the coyotes had vanished, but the leaders had decided that they may as well rest. Beside her Thunderfoot, Windheart, and the Medicine Cats sat, all unable to sleep. Having awoken earlier, at the same time, and they had kep eachother company. They had been sleeping near the tunnel entrance, but, in silent agreement, had moved to the Moonstone moments ago.

Windheart yawned again. "I'm…" her voice was cut off my another yawn, "so," her eyelids began to flicker shut, "tired." She collapsed against the stone, asleep.

* * *

_She awoke in a clearing surrounded by four towering oak trees. Beside her, Thunderfoot and Windheart blinked, as if they were just waking up. The Medicine Cats were nowhere to be seen. _

_"Where are we?" she whispered. _

_Riverstripe murmured, "StarClan," at the same time that Thunderfoot breathed, "Look up." _

_His siblings complied, and Windheart gaped. The stars were writhing and twisting in the sky, steadily growing larger. As they approached, the strange shapes took form. _

_Cats. All cats. Cats with coats of ice and fire.Windheart gasped, and felt the others stiffen. She recognized cats from her old clan, who had been killed by wolves. The old Generals and deputies, the other Elites, soldiers and hunter and sentries. And there was Whitefoot, and the apprentice killed in the Valley of Thorns. The cat that drowned in the river. She saw the cat from her vision in the mountain, who had sacrificed herself to save Nena. _

My mother,_ Windheart thought. _

_Suddenly, another cat stepped forward and Windheart gasped. It was none other than her mother. _

_She looked confused. "There are only three of you. There should be four. What has happened to Shadowpelt?" _

_Windheart bowed her head, and Riverstripe looked away. Thunderfoot answered. "He… died. In the Valley of Thorns. We needed time and he gave it to us." Then he, too, bowed his head. _

_Nena and another cat exchanged glances, but didn't reply. _

_Suddenly, none other than General Mora stepped forward. "Death and Hate work their way to the forest. They will be here soon. But your time of running is over. You must fight. If you win, you will prove to all that you truly deserve to be here. We will help as best we can, but in the end, it all lies on your courage and strength." _

_The cats were beginning to fade. _

_"How?" Thunderfoot yowled, "How do we defeat something so powerful?" _

_The voice sounded far away. "Use what you have learned. Return here when there are again four, and you will be given life." _

_"Wait!" Riverstripe cried, "Shadowpelt is dead! Do you mean Sheba? And what have we learned? We haven't been taught any new fighting skills"  
The voice was a mere echo. "You _have_ learned much. Not all fighting means causing another pain.."_

_

* * *

_

Riverstripe awoke with a start. It was dawn. Beside her, Thunderfoot and Windheart blinked slowly.

"Did you have a dream?" an excited voice asked. She turned. The Medicine Cats were standing beside them.

Riverstripe blinked. "You had a dream too?

Bristle nodded. "There were all the cats I have ever known there, that have passed on. Their fur was like ice and fire."

Thunderfoot nodded. "What did they say?"

Fernpelt shook her head. "That we sacrificed our lives, not literally of course, for you. We could have had families of our own, but we chose to raise you. Because of that, we will have the power to speak with them. As for the rest, we are forbidden to speak of it to anyone but Medicine Cats."

Windheart blinked. "You wanted to have families?"

Moren purred. "Of course we did. But you needed us more."

* * *

Riverstripe loped beside Thunderfoot. Windheart, excited by the smell of moor, was racing ahead with her Clan.

Suddenly, they vanished behind a hill. Riverstripe sighed. They _could _have waited.

She topped the rise, and gasped. Before her lay moor and meadow, stretching for as far as the eye could see. Below her, the RunningClan cats were galloping, full speed, through the grass

* * *

Windheart laughed out loud as the wind blew into her face, and the ground pounded beneath her paws. This was where she belonged. For so many moons, she had fled from the wolves, but not since her last day on her old land, had she truly _run_.  
This was her home now.

* * *

A few weeks later:

"Run!" A skinny white she-cat yowled. The wavering line broke, and the cats scattered, leaving dead and dyeing behind.

Snarling, the wolves and lunged at stragglers, biting off tails and hind paws with snaps of their powerful jaws.

The she-cat glanced once over her shoulder, and saw the hulking, slavering wolf stained with old and new blood, straining at his harness. She shuddered and disappeared into the alley.

Her cats had no chance but to hide. They new these alleys and streets like the back of their paw.

She new who these wolves and cats were. Thunderfoot, Riverstripe, and Windheart had warned her about them. And now they were here. It the plans had changed, the cats still had a two moons march on them. If the cats had been headed for the forest as the plan, then the wolves would be there in a few weeks.

She had to warn them.

Twist would take care of her Gang in her absence. It wouldn't be the first time she had disappeared for a few weeks.

Turning, Sally Bones headed for the forest.

**_Short, I know. And there's probably spelling mistakes, but at least it's a chapter. Funny. I thought the break would give me more time to type, but I've been really busy with my friends. Oh well, R&R please._**


	16. A New Beginning

Chapter 16: A New Beginning 

For two weeks, the Clans had not been together. The FightingCats had disappeared into their new home in the marshes, while the SwimmnigClan cats fished and swam in the rivers. The RunningClan cats had stayed in the moor. Despite the poor prey and gusty weather, they had claimed it as theirs.

Thunderfoot had taken his cats and turned to the forest. It was good to feel safe again. For the past few days, he had sent scouts, himself often going, into the heart of their new territory, looking for a good place to make camp, and along the edges, to mark territory.

He sighed as he watched yet another unsuccessful patrol return. Turning, he motioned to Mouse and a soldier called Birch. Wordlessly, they rose and followed him out of the temporary camp in a small clearing. They would patrol, like all the others, but Thunderfoot didn't bother to get excited any more.

It was almost moon-high when Mouse came barreling back to the two toms, panting, and gasped, "Thunderfoot, Birch, I found a place! It's right down this ridge. It even has a river running through it like our old camp." She frowned slightly. "It'll have to be cleared up some, though."

Thunderfoot purred. "Show us," he mewed. He was doing it more to humor her, but when he actually saw what she was telling him about he agreed.

A little ways away, the land dipped suddenly, into a small ravine. At the base was a large patch of brambles, thick on the outside, but extremely thin on the inside. A river ran through its center, through a hole in the wall, under a large stone, and through another hole

"It's perfect," Mouse breathed. "It'll be easy to clear out the center, and the outside can act as a wall. The kits will be safe in that one tangle, and if we can reroute the stream, like back home at Byron's post, a cat can sleep under that big rock, when we close off the back, and one entrance way will be were the stream enters, the other will be behind that tangle. The two bushes would be perfect for apprentices and warriors. I'm not sure where trainees would sleep, but… "

"And Bristle could use that split rock for her herbs. They'd stay dry in the rain. But I don't know where the elders would sleep. We'll have to figure that out!" Birch added, catching the excitement.

Thunderfoot purred. "If we could fell that tree, it would be a great place for the elders."

Mouse frowned. "Wouldn't it die?"

It was Birch who answered. "If we keep part of it's trunk connected, and really just bend it, it should live."

Thunderfoot nodded. "If all goes well, we should be moving into our new home in a few days.Perhaps we've finally found our new home."

* * *

Windheart stared proudly around the new camp. It was the only sheltered spot on the entire moor, but it was perfect. On one side of the windswept clearing, was a large, smooth rock, where she made announcements. The dens were all dry and warm and a hole had been dug in the sandy ground beside the large rock for fresh-kill. 

Since they had settled the day after they had arrived, the clan had built the camp, established their borders, and settled everyone down. It was almost normal but for the fact that Hunters and Soldiers shared the same den. There were not sentries or frontlines, since there were not enough cats. Everyone stayed in camp, unless they were on patrol or hunting.

Since she, nor anyone, could remember whether a cat was a trainee or an apprentice, they had all been named apprentices.

"Windheart, who will take the dawn patrol?" She turned to look at her second, Rockfur. She hadn't named him deputy, but he pretty much served as one, taking charge when she wasn't there, advising her, and he always had an idea on how to make things better.

She sighed, thinking. It was easier to arrange patrol now that she new every cat by name, but harder than she thought to remember how hard they had worked that day.

"Frost, Reggie, and Hardwhisker. I'll assign the sun-high patrol after I know everyone's plans". He nodded and walked away.

Windheart sighed. It was good to be home.

* * *

Three days after the finding of their new camp, the HuntingClan cats had moved in and settled. It was hard to believe that these well-fed, happy cats, had been half dead just a few weeks before. 

The middle of the brambles had been cleared out, except for an exceptionally thick one that served as the nursery.There was the second entrance behind it. The tree had been easier than they thought to fell, for when they came back the next day, it had been knocked over by lightening.

Thunderfoot couldn't help but think StarClan had lended a paw.

With a few well placed rocks, the stream had been redirected into a small sandy hollow that served as a training area. Suddenly, a patrol burst into camp. In the middle of the loose ring stood a RunningClan cat.

Thunderfoot padded forward. "What are you doing on HuntingClan territory?" He kept his voice mild, but he was surprised at the slight spark of anger. Had the clan boundaries really returned that quickly?

The tom seemed taken aback. "Windheart wants a meeting with all the leaders, at the small valley where the four territories meet, in two days. She said you'll spot it fast, seeing as there's a giant rock there. Oh, she asks you bring your Medicine Cats." He glanced around nervously. "I've given this to the two other clans, and I kind of want to make it home before moon-high."

Thunderfoot purred. "You mean you want a good piece of fresh-kill?"

The tom shuffled his paws sheepishly, and Thunderfoot purred harder. "I understand. My warriors-" he blinked. Where had _that _come from? Warriors? _Yes_, a part of his mind said, _they deserve to be called warriors_. "-will escort you to your territory. Hurry now, or that juicy rabbit will be gone."

As the cats left, Thunderfoot turned. It would be good to see his siblings again. It was time for a new beginning.

* * *

Riverstripe took one last look around the island-camp. The reeds had made amazingly dry dens for all her cats. 

Wren padded up. "We'll be fine Riverstripe. The camp isn't going to disappear without you."

She cuffed him playfully. "With you in charge I'm not so sure. Are you ready Fernpelt?"

The old she-cat padded up and mewed dryly, "Ready as I'll ever be. Lets go."

The two cats hurried out of the camp.

* * *

Windheart sat beside her new Medicine Cat, Silver, Whitefoot's apprentice. Suddenly, she leapt to her paws. Riverstripe was here! She rushed forward and rubbed her face against her sister's. 

"Riverstripe," she purred. "How are you?"

The tabby grinned, "Great! We've got our own camp and- oh, here come Thunderfoot and Sheba."

Windheart hurried forward to give her brother's ear a lick, and touch noses with Sheba.

"Have all of you been doing all right?" she asked. They all nodded.

"My Clan is thriving," Thunderfoot murmured. He glanced up at the full moon, and said suddenly, "We should do this every full moon. A gathering. It will give our Clans a time to catch up."

Windheart nodded, surprised she hadn't thought of it. "That's one of the reasons I asked you here. We need to discuss the Clans. First, I think we should change the names."

Thunderfoot and Riverstripe gasped, but Sheba looked thoughtful.

"She's right," the cat mewed, "we promised we'd leave our old life behind, and that includes the clan names. Plus, if a cat should ask about the Clan of the Fighting Cat, we can truthfully say we don't know."

Thunderfoot nodded slowly, and Riverstripe mewed, "We'll have to ask our Clans about that. When we meet next full moon, we'll announce our decisions. And now that Windheart has brought 'change' up, I was thinking…" her voice trailed off.

"Yes," Sheba prompted gently.

Riverstripe shook her head, as if clearing away unnecessary thoughts, and went on, "So much has changed. I think the old ways should change too. The Clans are smaller now, and its easier with less cats."

Windheart nodded. "Next time we come, we will bring our oldest warriors, and elders, and discuss new…rules. A new code. For now, we should head back. When we return next moon, bring your wisest, your new name, and some ideas."

* * *

"ForestClan!"  
"HuntingClan!"  
"No you mouse-brain, that's already our name! We need a new one!"  
"Oh…" the apprentice looked thoughtful, then joked to his friend, "How about SparrowClan, named for me?" 

"ThunderClan!" Every cat went quiet, and turned to look at Mouse. She shifted uncomforatably under their gazes, but then, one by one, the rest began to nod, and a few whispers turned into a roar of approval.

Thunderfoot shuffled his paws sheepishly and Bristle, noticing her foster son's discomfort, mewed, "We'd never have made it this far if it weren't for you. You should be remembered." A cat somewhere in the crowd began to chant jokingly, and another picked it up, until the clearing echoed, between purrs of amusment, with the name: "ThunderClan, ThunderClan, ThunderClan!" (a/n- in other words, they know its corny, but they don't care)

* * *

A cat bolted through the tunnel that served as the FightingClan- _No_, Sheba corrected herself with a smile_, ShadowClan_- camp entrance. 

"Windheart says the Clans need to meet her at GreatRock immediately,"the cat panted.

Sheba stepped forward. "What's wrong?" The next Gathering wasn't supposed to be for three more weeks.

The other cat looked grim."It's Sally Bones. We found her body at dawn."

* * *

Riverstripe shifted impatiently as she watched Sheba, the last to arrive, scramble down the slope. 

"What's this," she panted immedietly, "You've found Sally Bones' _body_?"

Windheart nodded grimly. "We actually found her alive, but she'd been running for seven days straight, and died of exaustion a few hours later. She said she had left the day the wolves had attacked the alleys."

Riverstripe froze. The city was only a five day march, as the wolf runs. _Then again, the cats traveling with can't travel that fast,_ Riverstripe thought.

Suddenly, a howl split through the night air. Distant, but familiar, it made the hair on the back of Riverstripe's neck prickle. The wolves were back.

_**a/n- just out of curiosity, could you tell me what your favorite chapter has been and why? I'm just curious. The more reviews I get, the longer the next chapter will be! Oh, and I know this was mostly a filler (except for that last part) but it kind of needed to be done, and it's a break from the action, which is only realistic. So, please R&R, especially (sp?) about the chapter thing...  
**_


	17. Treachery

**Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books**

Chapter 17: Treachery

"Dogheart," a voice snapped, "come here."

The ginger splotched white tom heaved himself to his paws and padded over to Screave. For once, though, he didn't roll his eyes or sigh. He'd been waiting for this.

"We were supposed to be ready to leave by tonight," Screave whined, "but now I'm being told I won't be going anywhere."

Dogheart grinned. "You won't be lord."

Screave looked taken aback. "You speak _politely _when you talk to your leader," he hissed, "now tell me why where not leaving!"

Dogheart's purr was silky smooth. _"We're _leaving _Lord_," he growled mockingly, _"you're _going nowhere."

The black tom's eyes widened and he began to scramble to his paws. "What is this?" he snarled, "What are you doing?"

The smile was gone. "What should have happened a long time ago. Taking charge."

Screave stared at him. "Treachery-" his voice was cut off by the paw swinging into his face.

* * *

A blood soaked tom stepped out of an alley. Another cat, a tabby, appeared. 

"Is all ready?" the bloody tom asked.

The other dipped his head. "Yes Lord," he smirked at the other. "Did you finish the old mouse-brain off?"

The tom, who had been staring off into the distance, turned slowly to look at him. "I didn't finish off the admired leader of our people. You did. I merely avenged his death."

The tabby's eyes widened. "Lord, I've been loyal and-" a paw slammed into his head and knocked him to the ground. The ginger tom leapt forward and sank his fangs into the tabby's throat.

As blood soaked the gutters as he yowled, "The time of Screave is over. The time of Lord _Dogheart _has begun."

* * *

"What have we learned that will help us?" Riverstripe wailed for the third time. 

Wren, crouching to the side of her den, listened patiently. She had been up all night thinking.

"Well," the tom replied, "what did we do to survive?"

Riverstripe flopped onto the ground. "It was only our strength and courage that- wait" she hissed in sudden excitement, "that's it!"

* * *

"I've got it," Riverstripe hissed triumphantly. Thunderfoot watched his sister pace. He was itching to voice his idea, and from Windheart and Sheba's impatient shifting so were they, but since Riverstripe had called the meeting, it was only fair to let her go first. 

"We can use fire!"

Thunderfoot nodded. "I thought of that, then realized that the MountainClan would probably aid us. They suffered losses when the scouting party attacked the cave."

"And the city cats," Windheart mewed, "Sally Bones was their leader, and they lost cats when they attacked the city."

"They'll reap the whirlwind they have sown," Fernpelt murmured softly.

Sheba, who had been quiet the whole time, said suddenly, "What about the Valley Cats?"

Thunderfoot stared. "Are you insane?"

Sheba looked away sheepishly. "It was an idea," she mumbled.

"And a good one." Thunderfoot turned to blink at the new RunningCl- _WindClan_ he reminded himself- medicine cat. She was old for an apprentice, the only reason Thunderfoot didn't dismiss her opinion.

"They suffered much."

"They don't care about death," Riverstripe spat. "You saw what they did to that apprentice."

"But they do care about change. From what I gathered, they'd lived there with the same rituals for generations. They feared and hated change, and then the wolves came. They probably had to make a new camp. Their temple must be destroyed, since thats where they stored meat. We could at least try."

The cats were quiet for a moment, then Thunderfoot found himself saying, "I agree. At worst, the messenger will be chased away."

Windheart nodded slowly, and everyone looked at Riverstripe. She glared at them, but bowed her head.

* * *

Even the light of the stars were not powerful enough to puncture the blackness of the city sky. This made the cat creeping along in the shadows shiver. What if StarClan, who had guided him through so much, couldn't see her? 

She shook these thoughts from her head. She had to find Twist and deliver the message.

Suddenly, a large scarred tom stepped out of the shadows. "What'r ye doin' on Sally Bones' territory," he growled, then murmured in surprise, "Yer one o'them country cats agin, ain't ye"

The she-cat nodded. "I've a message for you."

* * *

Far away, deep in the snowy mountains, another cat was ushered into a large cave. 

"I need to see Snake," he growled to a Novice, who scampered off, but returned moments later with a scrawny black tom.

"Haven't you brought enough grief to this Clan? We were peaceful before you came," the new tom hissed.

The other tom ignored him. "I have a message for you, and the other leaders. We need you help."

* * *

Deep in the depths of a canyon, a single tabby hurried the shadows, fur whispering like the breeze. She didn't want to be seen, but she had to deliver the message. The fate of the Clans rested on her shoulders. 

She knew the Valley cats would swell the ranks to twice their size. Suddenly, a disgustingly decorated cat stepped from the shadows. "You trespass in Valley of Thorns. Resist, you die now. Come with me, you die later." None of these fates looked cheerful, but the she-cat followed the other into shadow.

_a/n- short (REALLY short), but it had to happen. Things will start to pick up soon. I'm not sure when I'll be able to update next, so enjoy. Maybe lots of reviews will make me feel guilty… wink, wink…_


	18. Attack

_**Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books**_

_  
_

Chapter 18: Attack_  
_

_Again, she dreamed of StarClan. This time, though, they didn't greet her. _

_Her old General, Splitfang, wove through the crowd, pausing at the base of one of the towering oaks. He dug into the soft earth for several long moments. She was dieing to ask what he was doing, but already knew better than to question StarClan. At last he returned, carrying an oak seed in his jaws.  
"With this seed, you will plant not only new life for this tree, but for our people." He placed it at her paws and she awoke with a start._  
(a/n- I know I never said who 'she' is)

* * *

Fernpelt jerked awake. Unbeknownst to her, two other medicine cats did too. _What a dream,_ she thought, _General Fire-eyes giving me a, a magic_- she stopped suddenly. At her paws lay a small oak seed.

* * *

Moren padded out of camp, as if in a trance, a small seed clutched in her jaws. She didn't know why, but General Moonflower wanted her to, what had she said, 'plant not only the new life of a tree, but of the Clans.' 

She closed her eyes and let her paws guide her. Somehow, she didn't once loose her footing or even step in water or mud. For a long time she traveled, then suddenly, her paws stopped. She opened her eyes.

Before her, Bristle and Fernpelt stood, staring at the looming rock towering above them. This was where the leaders had been meeting.

Suddenly, the scent of herbs, spices, and wind far more free than theirs would ever be circled the three cats, twining into their noses like a vine on a plant. A ghostly but familiar whisper sounded through the night breeze_: "I am here."_

"Whitefoot," Bristle gasped. Moren's heart pounded in her chest. A silvery-gray cat with white paws appeared on the fourth side of the stone. She shimmered in the moonlight, and the wind seemed to blur her fur.

Without taking her eyes of her friends, she carefully deposited her seed on the ground, dug a hole, and nodded to them. Moren hurried to do as her friend bid.

At last, when all had small holes before them, each cat placed her seed inside, and carefully covered them up. The next part, they somehow knew. Unsheathing one claw, they cut a shallow gash on their paws and let the blood drip onto the freshly churned earth.

* * *

Thunderfoot padded through the trees, headed for the Great Rock. Bristle seemed exceptionally tired today, and she had somehow cut her paw, so he'd decided to leave her at camp. 

He topped a rise and gasped. The Great Rock was still there, but it was surrounded by four towering oaks. How could something that had not been there yesterday, be there so large today? It was impossible. _And yet, isn't a band of cats and wolves impossible? Isn't traveling through mountains and valleys and cities and only loosing a few cats impossible? Isn't StarClan impossible? _He thought.  
He purred. _This _was where Bristle had been last night.

* * *

Windheart sighed. It had been five days since the messengers had gone out, five days since the appearance of the trees, which had slowed, now, in their growing process. No sign of any cat. She shouldn't have expected any. It was a long journey. She knew. 

But cats that were coming would not have kits or elders to hold them back, like the Clans, or, like Sally Bones, have to hide in shadow and zigzag through the brush in fear that a wolf was on there tails.

Suddenly, there was a yowl from over head. She whipped around. Strung out across the ridge were the Alley cats, they circled the entire valley and stretched far back.

The cat in the lead yowled again, and they poured down, into Four Trees.

Windheart was shocked. A lot of these cats didn't even smell like Streetrats. Sally Bones must have been respected all around. There were twice as many cats here as there were in all the Clans put together!

Suddenly, the messenger padded forward. "It was hard, dodging wolves and Screa- no, Dogheart's cats. That's why so few came. And the entire population couldn't empty out. It would make them suspicious."

Windheart blinked, and Thunderfoot mewed, "But there are so many cats! Surely we don't need more?"

The messenger shook her head. "This isn't half of Dogheart's forces. And the Mountain Clan hasn't that many cats to spare. It all depends on the Canyon Cats."

Riverstripe nodded, then asked, "You keep saying 'Dogheart'. Isn't Screave in charge?"

Again, the messenger shook his head. "Screave was killed. Apparently, one of his cats did it and Dogheart avenged his death, but it's obvious it was Dogheart. It wouldn't take much to kill his leader, never mind a soldier. We are lucky. They were going to leave that dawn, but the cats were struck with sickness, thanks to some alley cats who planted bad meat. They had to wait until it had passed."

Windheart shook her head. How could such cruel cats have so many willing to serve them? All she could do was pray to StarClan that the Canyon Cats came to their aid.

* * *

Riverstripe sighed as she watched the alley cats tramp through Four Trees. The Clans had been so anxious about getting them there, they hadn't made any preparations for when they arrived. Now, the next day, the grass at Four Trees was flat and dusty where they had sheltered for the night. 

It was wrong to say they weren't enjoying themselves, though. After a lifetime cooped up in a city, eating only what they could find, she knew it must be fun to feel free and eat fresh-kill that was flavored with the forest, wind, or water, rather than two-leg trash.

Suddenly, a cry rang through the cats, "The ridge!"

Riverstripe looked up. Above them towered the huge Mountain cats, looking out of place with their thick, sturdy bodies, and hot in the sun with their pelts. Even so, Riverstripe had never been so glad to see another cat.

* * *

Thunderfoot watched a cat run up to Windheart, speaking swiftly and breathlessly. He padded over. 

"What's the matter?" he mewed.

Windheart looked at him, eyes wide. "The wolves will be here by tomorrow!"

Thunderfoot felt his heart stop in his chest. It couldn't be! The Canyon cat weren't here yet!

He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Get all the cats into hiding, and bring your warriors too. When the wolves come, we should all be ready. They can't leave the shelter of the trees. We'll take them by surprise."

Riverstripe padded foward. "Post sentries, _quiet _ones, to watch for them. That way we can be prepared."

Sheba said suddenly from behind them, "Remember to tell them that if they can get the wolves off their paws, they're easy prey."

* * *

Windheart's heart pounded in her ears, and she couldn't help but feel that the wolves would be able to hear it from a mile away. Glancing back at her warriors, she saw faces full of trust and eyes full of confidence in their leader. She took a deep breath. She had to be strong for them, if nothing else. 

Turning, she saw a tabby slip into the trees where Thunderfoot was hidden. The sentry. They would be here in minutes. Silver, who had insisted on coming, mewed softly, "Take a deep breath Windheart. You'll do us no good if you pass out." Windheart tried to force a purr, but all that came out was a dry hiccup.

Suddenly, she heard a bark. Whipping her head around, she saw, where the Mountain cats had stood just a day before, a seemingly endless line of wolves and cats. They reminded her of her first glimpse of the moor, stretching as far as she could see.

They padded into the clearing, terribly loud, with their noses to the wind. They were passing under the ridge Riverstripe hid in. Windheart felt her breath catch in her throat as her sister leapt out of the trees, screeching, "Attack!"

**_a/n- SHORT! I know, and a little rushed, but I kind of want to get to the next part, which I've been looking foward to writing since I began this story, when everything comes together. And I kind of want to finish to story, so I can work on my other one. Please review. It made me sad, the last few chapters, when I got so few reviews. And sad authors don't update often... Hmm. This note is almost as long as the chapter...  
_**


	19. Stars

**_Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books_**

Chapter 19: Stars

Riverstripe poured down the ridge, paws thundering on the stony ridge, her cats, many carrying burning branches, streaking after her.Fear was replaced by rage. These were murderers! They deserved to die! They _had _to die!

With a screech, she lunged at a wolf, feinting toward his head, then ducking under his legs. Cutting his tendon like she had seen Shadowpelt do so long ago in another blood-soaked clearing, wreathing with cats and wolves, she watched him fall.

Wasting no time, she lunged forward and sank her teeth into his neck. Despite the thick fur, she managed to tear away his skin, exposing his life vein. With a quick bite, he was dead.

Having taken no more than a few seconds to dispose of her opponent, she spun. She knew she had to find Beast. She was one of the few cats who could kill him.

Looking around she found his hulking form quickly. He towered over all else, throwing cats to the side like mice. She lunged forward and found herself side-by-side with Thunderfoot and Windheart. She hadn't even noticed when they had entered the fighting.

The three approached the Beast from the back. Riverstripe expected to surprise him. But as they lunged toward his legs, he whipped around, fangs snapping. Riverstripe gasped in pain as his mouth closed around her neck. Suddenly, the wolf snarled and the weight was gone.

She scrambled out of the way as she heard her siblings gasp. Blinking spots from her eyes, she gawked. The Beast was writhing on the ground, and familiar black shadow clinging to his face.

"Shadowpelt," she gasped. Of course! He hadn't been among the ranks of StarClan!

Leaping off his face, her brother hurried toward them. It was indeed Shadowpelt. He was skinny and his fur stood up in ragged clumps. But his eyes burned as brightly as ever.

They heard a yowl. Glancing up at the ridge, she saw cats pouring down the slope. The Canyon Cats had arrived! The lunged into battle, swelling the ranks to almost three times their size.

Purring, she turned with all _four _of her siblings to face the Beast. The wolf was rushing toward them, face torn and bloody. Suddenly, time seemed to halt and Riverstripe collapsed.

* * *

_Windheart's eyes snapped open. She was in the clearing again, surrounded by her ancestors. The odd voice rang out. _

_"This was not meant until later, but we see you need it now. It is time for you to receive your nine lives." Windheart gasped. _Nine _lives!  
_

_She looked around, and recognized the cats of the inner ring. The four Generals. The cat who had drowned in the river, and the apprentice who had been killed in the Valley of Thorns. Whitefoot. The black and white she-cat who had sacrificed herself and her unborn kits for them. And their mother.  
_

_(a/n- most of what is next is from book six, when Fireheart receives his nine lives. Some words are adjusted, but...)  
_

_All four Generals stepped forward, touching noses with their former Elites. "With this life, we give you justice. Use it well as you judge the actions of others." _

_An agonizing spasm of pain rushed through Windheart's body. She felt like she was being torn in two! She gritted her teeth to keep from yowling. At last, when the pain ebbed, the black and white she-cat stepped up. _

_Suddenly, she seemed to multiply, so that it was four ghostly, half transparent, cats that touched noses with the siblings. "With this life I give you protection. Use it well to care for your clan as a mother cares for her kits." Windheart expected this life to be gentle and loving, and she wasn't ready for the bolt of ferocity that transfixed him. She felt as though all the fury of their ancient ancestors were pulsing through her, challenging any cat to harm the weaker, faceless, shadows that crouched at her paws. _

_Shocked and trembling, Windheart recognized a mother's desire to protect her kits.  
_

_It was Mora, her old General of the RunningClan, alone who stepped up next. "With this life I give you tireless energy," she meowed as she bowed her head to touch noses with the four siblings. "Use it well to carry out the duties of a leader"  
_

_As the life coursed through Windheart, she felt as if she were racing across the moor, her paws skimming the ground, her fur flattened by the wind. She knew again the exhilaration of the hunt and the sheer joy of speed, and she felt that she could outrun and enemy forever.  
Windheart knew the feeling.  
_

_It was the apprentice, murdered in the Valley, that came next. The young cats eyes shone with a wisdom beyond his age as he touched noses with them. "With this life, I give you mentoring. Use it well to train the young cats of your clans." _

_This life was short, a pang of anguish that he would never become a soldier, then a jolt of pure terror as he was pinned to the ground, and a flash of light, red as blood. Windheart knew she was experiencing the last moments of his life._

_

* * *

_

_As the pain ebbed away, leaving Shadowpelt gasping, he began to feel like a hollow in the ground as rain falls into it and spills over. He didn't know how his strength would hold him through the last lives from the cats that were still to come._

_The first was General Moonflower. She padded forward. "With this life I give you courage. Use it well in the defense of your clan."_

_

* * *

_

_The same pain from all the other lives passed through him. _

_Thunderfoot yowled as a bolt of energy so strong that all his fur stood on end seared through his body. A roar filled his ears and he felt dizzy as spots danced before his eyes. His mind filled with a chaotic swirl of battles and hunts, the feeling of claws raking across his fur and teeth meeting in the flesh of prey. _

_An image, so fast he wasn't sure if it had even been there, passed through his mind. Moonflower, leaping of the rock at the Gathering of the Clans, onto the back of a wolf, as he was about to close his jaws around an apprentice. Flung through the air, she landed with a thud and the wolf was on her. As she stared into the eyes of death, she snarled, unafraid, and swiped her claws across it's muzzle._

_

* * *

_

_Riverstripe gasped and her eyes, which she didn't know she had closed, where open. Moonflower had been replaced by the cat who had drowned in the river. He, too, had multiplied into four. _

_"With this life I give loyalty to do what you know to be right. Use it well to guide your Clans in times of trouble." This life was less painful, for under the agony of it, lay a core of golden devotion, pure as the sun and the air.  
_

_When she opened her eyes, he was gone. In his place stood Whitefoot. She glanced at her sister, and saw a pang of longing in her eyes as she looked at her foster mother. "With this life I give compassion," she announced. "Use it well for he elders of your Clan, and the sick, and all those weaker than yourself."_

_

* * *

_

_This time, even knowing the pain she would have to bear, Windheart closed her eyes and drank in he life hungrily, wanting all of Whitefoot's spirit, all her courage and her lyoatly to her clan and the kit not hers by birth. _

_She received them like a tide of light surging through her: her humor, her gentle nature, her warmheartedness, and her sense of honor. She felt closer to her than before._

_

* * *

_

_As his eyes followed the Medicine Cat back to her place, Thunderfoot decided that from then on, no Medicine Cat would be allowed to have kits. If Bristle and Fernpelt and Moren had had to go through the same as Whitefoot, others should know their pain._

_

* * *

_

_To Shadowpelt's surprise, it was their mother who stepped up next. "With this life I give you love," she murmured. "Use it well, for all the cats in your Clan- and especially for Sheba," she added to him in a whisper._

_ There was no pain in the life that poured into Shadowpelt now, it held the warmth of the high sun in green-leaf, burning to the tips of his paws. It was pure love; at the same time he experience the sense of security he had known as a tiny kit, nuzzling his mother. He caught a gleam of pride in her eyes as she turned away, and his disappointment that she hadn't stayed to talk with him was mixed with relief that she approved of the life he had chosen. _

_At last, all the Generals appeared again, prowling toward him across the clearing like lions. Shadowpelt was almost dazzled by the glory of starlight around them, but he forced himself to look into Moonflower's eyes._

_"Welcome Shadowpelt. I always knew you had a great destiny laid out for you." She touched her nose gently to his and went on, "With this life I give you nobility and certainty and faith. Use it well as you lead your Clan in the ways of StarClan and the warrior code." _

_The warmth of their mother's life had lulled Shadowpelt, and he was unprepared for the agony that shook him as he received Moonflower's and the other leader's. _

_He shared the fierceness of her ambition, the anguish she had suffered when her family had been killed as a kit, the frivolity of battle after battle in the service of her Clan. He felt her terror as she watched everything she had worked for fall to pieces before her very eyes, in the jaws of wolves and fire.  
_

_The rush of power grew stronger and stronger, until Shadowpelt thought his pelt would never contain it. Just as he thought he might yowl in pain or die, it began to ebb, ending in a sense of calm acceptance and joy. _

_A long soft his passed through the clearing. All the cats had risen, and the Generals beckoned for them to do the same. They obeyed, shakily. _

_"We hail you by your new names, Shadowstar, Thunderstar, Windstar, and Riverstar. You old life is no more. You have received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of the Clans. Defend them well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the warrior code that you must makee; live each life with pride and dignity. When your time has come, you can rest easily knowing that you will join the ranks of StarClan and look down on the home you have sacrificed so much for." _

_Shadowstar felt a rush of pride. For generations to come, leaders would stand where he was standing and receive their lives. They, though, would have a warrior code to follow and a clan to return to._

_The clearing echoed with their names: "Shadowstar, Thunderstar, Windstar, Riverstar!" Slowly, the voice faded into nothingness and Shadowstar woke._

_**a/n- short, but it was a logical place to stop. The next chapter should be up by the end of the day, so keep you eyes peeled! I only have one or two more chapter to go, then maybe a prologue. **  
_


	20. The Beast

**_Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books_**

****Chapter 20: The Beast

As soon as Thunderstar's eyes snapped open, he was plunged back into the battle. The Beast was lunging forward, snarling with hate and pain.

Immediately, the siblings dived to the side. Thunderstar felt filled with a new power that gave him unnatural speed and strength. He lunged in with Windstar as the Beast was going by and raked his claws down it's side. Snarling, it spun with lightning speed to match theirs and its jaws clicked together where Shadowstar's face had been moments before.

"We have to distract him so someone can get to his legs," Riverstar yowled. As they moved, matching each other pawstep for pawstep, Thunderstar realized that this was what they had learned on their journey. To work together.

Unlike his pack mates though, this wolf didn't let them near his legs. He leapt and pivoted, but he knew he had to stay on his paws.

With a flick of his tail, Thunderstar motioned for Shadowstar. The two she-cats moved back as their brothers lunged forward, shifting to each side of the Beast. Distracted, head swinging to and fro, he tried to keep his eyes on them.

Suddenly, he lunged for Thunderstar. The tom's eyes widened and he yowled in pain as a fang sliced through his shoulder, opening it to the bone. Thunderstar lunged back, leg throbbing, and inspected the wound.

Deep, but not long. When he swung back to look at his siblings, he saw Windstar snarling, dodging in and out of the big wolf's fangs as she lunged back and forth, slamming her unsheathed claws into any exposed flesh. A long, shallow, gash from the Beast, wound down her head to her shoulder.

Shadowstar and Riverstar were ripping at his sides, both bearing torn fur and flesh from his long nails. Thunderstar pounded forward, but stumbled. He could put no weight on his bad leg. He wouldn't be able to fight.

* * *

Riverstar lunged in and out of the wolf's lashing legs, biting and clawing at his side. She saw Thunderstar try to hurry forward to help them, but trip on his bad paw. He limped away, and for a moment, Riverstar thought he had gone. Then, a furious battle yowl split through the air and the gray tom landed squarely on the Beast's back.

The wolf threw his head back in pain, and Windstar lunged forward for his throat. Seeing their chance, Shadowstar and Riverstar leapt at it's back legs, tearing the tendons so the Beast's back end collapsed. In the same movement, they moved to his front paws and the rest of his body fell to the ground. Riverstar lunged to get out of the way of the massive falling body, but at the last moment, his fangs clipped her leg, tearing through skin to the bone. She yowled and broke away, scrambling on her own blood.

* * *

Windstar gagged, the taste of the Beast's blood filling her mouth. His matted fur made it almost impossible to close her mouth. The wolf writhed and twisted, jaws snapping as he tried to get at her. But she was to small. 

A black shadow appeared at her side, and Shadowstar gripped the Beast's throat. Thunderstar and Riverstar followed.

Suddenly, with a muffled cry of triumph, she felt warm blood gushing into her mouth. She drew back panting, as the wolf howled in pain. The howl, though, gargled down to nothing as his blood poured onto the grass, forming a pool at Windstar's paws.

She gagged as her siblings drew back, covered in the blood of their enemy. They watched in grim silence as the wolf's spasms grew weaker and weaker and finally disappeared, his eyes glazing.

The Beast was dead.  
Now they had to find Dogheart.

_**Short, but there. One more chapter to go. I'm not sure whether thats good or bad. I LOVED writing this story but I really want to finish it. It will be my first complete story that isnt a one-shot.**_


	21. A New Life

**_Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books._**

Chapter 21: A New Life

Shadowstar surged up the ridge, Dogheart's scent fresh in his nose. In this cat, the murder and hate of Screave lived on. He needed to die.

There he was, standing atop the ridge, facing the other way. Without wasting a moment, the black tom leapt. To his surprise, the other tom slipped easily to the side, and turned to face him and his siblings.

"Now, now, that wasn't very polite was it?"

Thunderstar hissed. "We're not _here _to be polite, Dogheart!"  
Riverstar snarled, "Your time on this earth has ended!"

The four siblings leapt, spitting at the tom.

Suddenly, Shadowstar found himself thrown back, landing hard on the ground, wind knocked out of him. Scrambling to his paws, he glared at the fire-bearing cats who had knocked them aside.

"What," Windstar hissed, "can't even fight you own battles you coward?"

The guards lunged forward, and Shadowstar automatically dodged to the side. He was exhausted from getting his lives and the fight with the Beast. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his siblings were doing no better.

Suddenly, there were two flashes of brown and black and the four guards were swept off their paws. Mouse and Wren, battling side by side, knocked the fire from the jaws of the invaders and yowled, "We'll take care of them! Go!"

Shadowstar lunged forward, energy renewed, and followed Dogheart's scent through the battle ground, now littered with bodies and streaming with blood. It disappeared into RiverClan territory.

"He's headed straight for the gorge!" Riverstar hissed.

Thunderstar, limping along in the back, growled, "Perhaps he'll fall in and we won't have to kill him ourselves."

Windstar shook her head. "Wishful thinking brother. We have to follow."

The gray tom heaved himself to his paws and sighed, "I know."

The four cats continued at a brisk pace. Suddenly, Shadowstar smelled it. Made faint from the water, but there. Blood. And Dogheart. He had been here. Whether or not he was still here worried him.

"I'll check over here," he hissed, creeping along the narrow path. He rounded a corner and found a dead-end. There was nothing there. "How-" he began, then yowled in pain as a weight descended on his shoulders. He twisted, throwing his attacker off, and spun to his paws.

Behind him lay the dead-end. Before him stood Dogheart. The tom sneered at him, a vine gripped in his teeth. Slowly, Shadowstar looked up, and groaned. With a small jerk, a massive rock would come tumbling down, easily crushing the ledge and sending him into the heaving rapids below.

"Farewell, Lord of Shadow," he hissed mockingly and yanked the vine. At the same moment, Shadowstar gathered up the last of his strength and leapt. He sailed over the rock, the ledge crumbling beneath his paws, and watched as Dogheart fled- right into Riverstar, Thunderstar, and Windstar.

The ginger and white tom spun, forgetting where he was in his panic, and, as Shadowstar's paws hit the solid ground, he fell. With a sickening crack his writhing body hit a rock and went limp, before sliding off and disappearing under water.  
Dogheart was dead.

* * *

Thunderstar and his siblings limped back toward Fourtrees. The chaotic swirl of battle was gone. Somehow, the wolves must have felt Dogheart's death, and fled, figuring that so many lives were to much to pay for cat flesh. The rest of Dogheart's supporters, cats, were gone as well. 

The four cats stopped at the ridge of the clearing and watched their Clan's work. Then, with unspoken agreement, they touched noses and went their separate ways with one last look. For good. They would never again fight, all four, side by side. This was the end. They each had their seperate paths to follow.

* * *

Shadowstar suppressed a sad sigh. He would miss the bond he had shared with his siblings. The black tom shook his head. He couldn't mope. They had a lot of cleanup, and the cats from the mountain and alley's had to be sent home. The Canyon cats were already gone. They had to bury dead and heal the wounded. 

The warrior code had to be established and the makeup of the clans put in order. He sighed again. Like the prophecy said, _the doom of the old Clan, the birth of a new. _The end of one story and the beggining of a new life.

There was a lot of work to be done.

* * *

_As Sandstorm finished her tale, she looked at the young kit, the future of her Clan, and sighed. He was almost asleep. _

_"Are they in StarClan now?" he mewed sleepily. _

_Sandstorm purred. "Yes. Like all our ancestors, they will look down on us and guide us forever."  
_

_Redkit sighed. "Good."_

**_The End _**

**_a/n- funny. This was going to be a one-shot. I now have 59 something pages worth of writing. I'll miss this story and it's faithful reviewers, but I'm excited. My first story that isn't a one-shot! Feel free to review though. I'd appreciate it. I'm so happy! I want to say it again. So I will.  
_**

**_The End. _**


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